river-worship. Far from being peculiar to Hinduism, it is common
to the whole Aryan world. The prayer of the patient Odysseus [88]
to the river after his sufferings in the deep is heard in almost the
same language at every bathing Ghât in Upper India, from the source
of Mother Ganges to where she joins the ocean. The river is always
flowing, always being replenished by its tributary streams, and
hence comes to be regarded as a thing of life, an emblem of eternal
existence, a benevolent spirit which washes away the sins of humanity
and supplies in a tropical land the chief needs of men. In a thirsty
land the mighty stream of the Ganges would naturally arouse feelings
of respect and adoration, not so much perhaps to those living on its
banks and ever blessed by its kindly influence, as to the travel-worn
pilgrim from the sandy steppes of Râjasthân or the waterless valleys
of the Central Indian hills. We can hardly doubt that from this
point of view Mother Ganges has been a potent factor in the spread
of Hinduism. She became the handmaid of the only real civilization
of which Hindustân could boast, and from her shrines bands of eager
missionaries were ever starting to sow the seeds of the worship of
the gods in the lands of the unbeliever.
The two great rivers of Upper India were, again, associated with
that land of fable and mystery, the snowy range which was the home of
the gods and the refuge of countless saints and mystics, who in its
solitudes worked out the enigma of the world for the modern Hindu. They
ended in the great ocean, the final home of the ashes of the sainted
dead. Even the partially Hinduised Drâvidian tribes of the Vindhyan
Plateau bring the bones of their dead relations to mingle with those
of the congregation of the faithful, who have found their final rest in
its waters since the world was young. The Ganges and the streams which
swell its flood thus come to be associated with the deepest beliefs of
the race, and it is hard to exaggerate its influence as a bond of union
between the nondescript entities which go to make up modern Hinduism.
Again, much of the worship of rivers is connected with the propitiation
of the water-snakes, demons and goblins, with which in popular belief
many of them are infested. Such were Kâliyâ, the great black serpent
of the Jumnâ, which attacked the infant Krishna; the serpent King
of Nepâl, Karkotaka, who dwelt in the lake Nâgarâsa when the divine
lotus of Adi Buddha floated on its surface. [89] At the temple of
Triyugi Nârâyana in Garhwâl is a pool said to be full of snakes of
a yellow colour which come out at the feast of the Nâgpanchamî to
be worshipped. The Gârdevî, or river sprite of Garhwâl, is very
malignant, and is the ghost of a person who has met his death by
suicide, violence, or accident. [90] These malignant water demons
naturally infest dangerous rapids and whirlpools, and it is necessary
to propitiate them. Thus we learn that on the river Tâpti in Berâr
timber floated down sometimes disappears in a subterraneous cavity;
so before trying the navigation there the Gonds sacrifice a goat to
propitiate the river demon. [91]
Another variety of these demons of water is the Nâga and his wife the
Nâgin, of whom we shall hear more in connection with snake-worship. In
the Sikandar, a tributary of the Son, is a deep water-hole where no
one dares to go. The water is said to reach down as far as Pâtâla,
or the infernal regions. Here live the Nâga and the Nâgin. In the
middle of the river is a tree of the Kuâlo variety, and when ghosts
trouble the neighbourhood an experienced Ojha or sorcerer is called,
who bores holes in the bark of the tree and there shuts up the noxious
ghosts, which then come under the rule of the Nâga and Nâgin, who
are the supreme rulers of the ghostly band.
Another Mirzapur river, the Karsa, is infested by a Deo, or demon,
known as Jata Rohini, or "Rohini of the matted locks." He is worshipped
by the Baiga priest to ensure abundant rain and harvests and to keep
off disease. The Baiga catches a fish which he presents to the Deo,
but if any one but a Baiga dares to drink there, the water bubbles
up and the demon sweeps him away.
Like this Deo of Mirzapur, most of these water demons are malignant
and wait until some wretched creature enters their domains, when they
seize and drag him away. Some of them can even catch the reflection
of a person as he looks into water, and hence savages all over the
world are very averse to looking into deep water-holes. Thus, the Zulus
believe that there is a beast in the water which can seize the shadow
of a man, and men are forbidden to lean over and look into a deep pool,
lest their shadow should be taken away. There is a tale of the Godiva
cycle in which a woman at Arles is carried off by a creature called a
Drac and made to act as nurse to the demon's child. [92] In Scotland
water-holes are known as "the cups of the fairies." And there is the
Trinity well in Ireland, into which no one can gaze with impunity,
and from which the river Boyne once burst forth in pursuit of a lady
who had insulted it. [93]
In India, also, dangerous creatures of this kind abound. There is in
Mirzapur a famous water-hole, known as Barewa. A herdsman was once
grazing his buffaloes near the place, when the waters rose in anger
and carried off him and his cattle. Nowadays the drowned buffaloes
have taken the shape of a dangerous demon known as Bhainsâsura, or the
buffalo demon, who now in company with the Nâga and the Nâgin lives in
this place, and no one dares to fish there until he has propitiated
the demons with the offering of a fowl, eggs, and a goat. Another
kind of water demon attacks fishermen; it appears in the form of a
turban which fixes itself to his hook and increases in length as he
tries to drag it to the shore.
There is, again, the water-horse, with whom we are familiar in the
"Arabian Nights," where he consorts with mares of mortal race. This
creature is known in Kashmîr as the Zalgur. [94] The water-bull of
Manxland is a creature of the same class, and they constantly appear
through the whole range of Celtic folk-lore. [95] Such again is the
Hydra of Greek mythology, and the Teutonic Nikke or Nixy, who has
originated the legend of the Flying Dutchman, and in the shape of Old
Nick is the terror of sailors. Like him is the Kelpie of Scotland,
a water-horse who is believed to carry off the unwary by sudden floods
and devour them. Of the same kindred is the last of the dragons which
St. Patrick chained up in a lake on the Galtee Mountains in Tipperary.
Many pools, again, in Northern India are infested by a creature known
as the Bûrna, who is the ghost of a drowned person. He is always on
the look-out for someone to take his place, so he drags in people
who come to fish in his domains. [96] He is particularly feared by
the Magahiya Doms, a caste of degraded nomadic gipsies who infest
Gorakhpur and Behâr.
Many of these demons, such as the Nâga and Nâgin, have kingdoms and
palaces stored with treasure under the water, and there they entice
young men and maidens, who occasionally come back to their mortal
kindred and tell them of the wonders which they have seen. These are
akin to Morgan la Fay of the Orlando Innamorato, La Motte Fouqué's
Undine, and they often merge into the mermaid of the Swan Maiden type
of tale, who marries a mortal lover and leaves him at last because in
his folly he breaks some taboo which is a condition of the permanence
of their love.
But besides these dragons which infest rivers and lakes there are
special water gods, many of which are the primitive water monster in
a developed form. Such is Mahishâsura, who is the Mahishoba of Berâr,
and like the Bhainsâsura already mentioned, infests great rivers and
demands propitiation. According to the early mythology this Mahisha,
the buffalo demon, was killed by Kârttikeya at the Krauncha pass
in the Himâlaya, which was opened by the god to make a passage for
the deities to visit the plains from Kailâsa. The Kols, again, have
Nâga Era, who presides over tanks, wells, and any stagnant water,
and Garha Era, the river goddess. "They," as Col. Dalton remarks,
"are frequently and very truly denounced as the cause of sickness
and propitiated with sacrifices to spare their victims." [97]
Floods and Drowning People.
Floods are, as we have seen, regarded as produced by demoniacal
agency. In the Panjâb, when a village is in danger of floods, the
headman makes an offering of a cocoa-nut and a rupee to the flood
demon. As in many other places the cocoa-nut represents the head of a
human victim, which in olden times was the proper offering. He holds
the offering in his hand and stands in the water. When the flood rises
high enough to wash the offering from his hand, it is believed that the
waters will abate. Some people throw seven handfuls of boiled wheat and
sugar into the stream and distribute the remainder among the persons
present. Some take a male buffalo, a horse, or a ram, and after boring
the right ear of the victim, throw it into the water. If the victim be
a horse, it should be saddled before it is offered. A short time ago,
when the town and temples at Hardwâr were in imminent danger during
the Gohna flood, the Brâhmans poured vessels of milk, rice and flowers
into the waters of Mother Ganges and prayed to her to spare them.
In the same connection may be noticed the very common prejudice
which exists in India against saving drowning people. This is
familiar in Western folk-lore. It is supposed to be alluded to in
the "Twelfth Night" of Shakespeare, and the plot of Sir W. Scott's
"Pirate" turns upon it. Numerous instances of the same idea have been
collected by Dr. Tylor and Mr. Conway. [98] Dr. Tylor considers that
it is based upon the belief that to snatch a victim from the very
clutches of the water spirit is a rash defiance of the deity which
would hardly pass unavenged. Mr. Black [99] accounts for the idea on
the ground that the spirits of people who have died a violent death
may return to earth if they can find a substitute; hence the soul
of the last dead man is insulted or injured by anyone preventing
another from taking his place. This last theory is very common in
Western folk-lore. Thus Lady Wilde writes from Ireland [100]:--"It
is believed that the spirit of the dead last buried has to watch
in the churchyard until another corpse is laid there, or to perform
menial offices in the spirit world, such as carrying wood and water,
till the next spirit comes from earth. They are also sent on messages
to earth, chiefly to announce the coming death of some relative, and
at this they are glad, for their own time of peace and rest will come
at last." So in Argyllshire, [101] it was believed that the spirit of
the last interred kept watch around the churchyard until the arrival
of another occupant, to whom its custody was transmitted. This, as we
shall see in connection with the custom of barring the return of the
ghost, quite agrees with popular feeling in India, and furnishes an
adequate explanation of the prejudice against rescuing the drowning
and incurring the wrath of the former ghost, who is thus deprived of
the chance of release by making over his functions to a substitute.
Khwâja Khizr, the God of Water.
But besides these water spirits and local river gods, the Hindus
have a special god of water, Khwâja Khizr, whose Muhammadan title
has been Hinduised into Râja Kidâr, or as he is called in Bengal,
Kâwaj or Pîr Badr. This is a good instance of a fact, which will be
separately discussed elsewhere, that the Hindus are always ready to
annex the deities and beliefs of other races.
According to the Sikandarnâma, Khwâja Khizr was a saint of Islâm,
who presided over the well of immortality, and directed Alexander of
Macedon in his vain search for the blessed waters. The fish is his
vehicle, and hence its image is painted over the doors of both Hindus
and Muhammadans, while it became the family crest of the late royal
house of Oudh. Among Muhammadans a prayer is said to Khwâja Khizr at
the first shaving of a boy, and a little boat is launched in a river
or tank in his honour. The same rite is performed at the close of the
rainy season, when it is supposed to have some connection with the
saint Ilisha, that is to say the prophet Elisha. Elisha, by the way,
apparently from the miraculous way in which his bones revived the
dead, has come down in modern times to Italy as a worker of miracles,
and is known to the Tuscan peasant as Elisaeus. [102]
Another legend represents Khwâja Khizr to be of the family of Noah, who
is also regarded by rural Muhammadans as a water deity in connection
with the flood. Others connect him with St. George, the patron saint
of England, who is the Ghergis of Syria, and according to Muhammadan
tradition was sent in the time of the Prophet to convert the King of
Maushil, and came to life after three successive martyrdoms. Others
identify him with Thammuz, Tauz, or Adonis. Others call him the
companion of Moses, and the commentator Husain says he was a general
in the army of Zu'l Qarnain, "he of the horns," or Alexander the
Great. [103]
Out of this jumble of all the mythologies has been evolved the Hindu
god of water, the patron deity of boatmen, who is invoked by them to
prevent their boats from being broken or submerged, or to show them
the way when they have lost it. He is worshipped by burning lamps,
feeding Brâhmans, and by setting afloat on a village pond a little raft
of grass with a lighted lamp placed upon it. This, it may be noted,
is one of the many ways in which the demon of evil or disease is sent
away in many parts of the world. [104] Another curious function is,
in popular belief, allotted to Khwâja Khizr, that of haunting markets
in the early morning and fixing the rates of grain, which he also
protects from the Evil Eye. [105]
The Folk-lore of Wells.
In this connection some of the folk-lore of wells may be mentioned. The
digging of a well is a duty requiring infinite care and caution. The
work should begin on Sunday, and on the previous Saturday night little
bowls of water are placed round the proposed site, and the one which
dries up least marks the best site for the well, which reminds us
of the fleece of Gideon. The circumference is then marked and they
commence to dig, leaving the central lump of earth intact. They cut
out this clod of earth last and in the Panjâb call it Khwâjajî,
perhaps after Khwâja Khizr, the water god, worship it and feed
Brâhmans. If it breaks it is a bad omen, and a new site will be
selected a week afterwards. Further east when a man intends to sink a
well he inquires from the Pandit an auspicious moment for commencing
the work. When that hour comes he worships Gaurî, Ganesa, Sesha Nâga,
the world serpent, the earth, the spade and the nine planets. Then
facing in the direction in which, according to the directions of the
Pandit, Sesha Nâga is supposed to be lying at the time, he cuts five
clods with the spade. When the workmen reach the point at which the
wooden well-curb has to be fixed, the owner smears the curb in five
places with red powder, and tying Dûb grass and a sacred thread to it,
lowers it into its place. A fire sacrifice is done, and Brâhmans are
fed. When the well is ready, cow-dung, milk, cow urine, butter and
Ganges water, leaves of the sacred Tulasî and honey are thrown in
before the water is used.
But no well is considered lucky until the Sâlagrâma, or spiral ammonite
sacred to Vishnu, is solemnly wedded to the Tulasî or basil plant,
representing the garden which the well is intended to water. The rite
is done according to the standard marriage formula: the relations
are assembled; the owner of the garden represents the bridegroom,
while a kinsman of his wife stands for the bride. Gifts are given to
Brâhmans, a feast is held in the garden, and both it and the well
may then be used without danger. All this is on the same lines as
many of the emblematical marriage rites which in other places are
intended to promote the growth of vegetation. [106]
In Sirsa they have a legend that long ago, in time of drought, a
headman of a village went to a Faqîr to beg him to pray for rain, and
promised him his daughter in marriage if his prayer was successful. The
rain came, but the headman would not perform his promise, and the
Faqîr cursed the land, so that all the water became brackish. But
he so far relented as to permit sweet water to flow on condition
that it was given to all men free of cost. In one village the spring
became at once brackish when a water-rate was levied, and turned sweet
again when the tax was remitted. In another the brackish water became
sweet at the intercession of a Faqîr. In the Panjâb there is a class
of Faqîrs who are known as Sûnga, or "sniffers," because they can
smell out sweet water underground. They work on much the same lines
as their brethren in England, who discover springs by means of the
divining rod. [107] In one of the tales of Somadeva we have a doll
which can produce water at will, which is like Lucian's story of the
pestle that was sent to fetch water. When the Egyptian sorcerer was
away his pupil tried to perform the trick, but he did not know the
charm for making the water stop, and the house was flooded. Then he
chopped the pestle in two, but that only made matters worse, for both
halves set to bring the water. This is somewhat like the magic quern
of European folk-lore. [108]
The water of many wells is efficacious in the cure of disease. In
Ireland, the first water drawn from a sacred well after midnight
on May Eve is considered an effective antidote to witchcraft. [109]
In India many wells have a reputation for curing barrenness, which is
universally regarded as a disease, the work of supernatural agency. In
India the water of seven wells is collected on the night of the Diwâlî,
or feast of lamps, and barren women bathe in it as a means of procuring
children. In a well in Orissa the priests throw betel-nuts into the
mud, and barren women scramble for them. Those who find them will have
their desire for children gratified before long. [110] For the same
reason, after childbirth the mother is taken to worship the village
well. She walks round it in the course of the sun and smears the
platform with red lead, which is probably a survival of the original
rite of blood sacrifice. In Dharwâr the child of a Brâhman is taken
in the third month to worship water at the village well. [111] In
Palâmau the Sârhul feast is observed in the month of Baisâkh (May),
when dancing and singing goes on and the headmen entertain their
tenants. The whole village is purified, and then they proceed to the
village well, which is cleaned out, while the village Baiga does a
sacrifice and every one smears the platform with red lead. No one
may draw water from the well during the Sârhul. [112] Hydrophobia all
over Northern India is cured by looking down seven wells in succession.
In the Panjâb the sites of deserted wells are discovered by driving
about a herd of goats, which are supposed to lie down at the place
where search should be made. Some people discover wells by dreams;
others, as the Luniyas, a caste of navvies, are said, like the Faqîrs
in Sirsa, to be able to discover by smell where water is likely to
be found. I was once shown a well in the Muzaffarnagar district into
which a Faqîr once spat, and for a long time after the visit of the
holy man it ran with excellent milk. The supply had ceased, I regret
to say, before my visit. The well of life which can survive even the
ashes of a corpse is found throughout the Indian folk-tales. [113]
Sacred Wells.
Sacred wells, of course, abound all over the country. Many of them are
supposed to have underground connection with the Ganges or some other
holy river. Many of these are connected with the wanderings of Râma
and Sîtâ after their exile from Ayodhya. Sîtâ's kitchen (Sîtâ kî rasoî)
is shown in various places, as at Kanauj and Deoriya in the Allahâbâd
District. [114] Her well is on the Bindhâchal hill in Mirzapur, and
is a famous resort of pilgrims. There is another near Monghyr, and
a third in the Sultânpur District in Oudh. The Monghyr well has been
provided with a special legend. Sîtâ was suspected of faithlessness
during her captivity in the kingdom of Râvana. She threw herself into
a pit filled with fire, where the hot spring now flows, and came out
purified. When Dr. Buchanan visited the place they had just invented
a new legend in connection with it. Shortly before, it was said, the
water became so cool as to allow bathing in it. The governor prohibited
the practice, as it made the water so dirty that Europeans could not
drink it. "But on the very day when the bricklayers began to build a
wall in order to exclude the bathers, the water became so hot that no
one could dare to touch it, so that the precaution being unnecessary,
the work of the infidels was abandoned." [115]
At Benares are the Manikarnika well, which was produced by an ear-ring
of Siva falling into it, and the Jnânavâpi, to drink of which brings
wisdom. The well at Sihor in Râjputâna is sacred to Gautama, and is
considered efficacious in the cure of various disorders. At Sarkuhiya
in the Basti District is a well where Buddha struck the ground with his
arrow and caused water to flow, as Moses did from the rock. There are,
again, many wells which give omens. In the Middle Ages people used to
resort to the fountain of Baranta in the Forest of Breclieu and fling
water from a tankard on a stone close by, an act which was followed by
thunder, lightning and rain. [116] At a Cornish well people used to
go and inquire about absent friends. If the person "be living and in
health, the still, quiet waters of the well pit will instantly bubble
or boil up as a pot of clear, crystalline water; if sick, foul and
puddled water; if dead, it will neither boil nor bubble up, nor alter
its colour or stillness." [117] Many other instances of the same fact
might be given. So in Kashmîr, in one well water rushes out when a
sheep or goat is sacrificed; another runs if the ninth of any month
happen to fall on Friday; in a third, those who have any special needs
throw in a nut; if it floats, it is considered an omen of success;
if it sinks, it is considered adverse. At Askot, in the Himâlaya,
there is a holy well which is used for divination of the prospects
of the harvest. If the spring in a given time fills the brass vessel
to the brim into which the water falls, there will be a good season;
if only a little water comes, drought may be expected. [118]
Hot Springs.
Hot springs are naturally regarded as sacred. We have already noticed
an example in the case of Sîtâ's well at Monghyr. The holy tract in
the hills, known as Vaishnava Kshetra, contains several hot springs,
in which Agni, the fire god, resides by the permission of Vishnu. The
hot springs at Jamnotri are occupied by the twelve Rishis who followed
Mahâdeva from Lanka. [119]
Waterfalls.
Waterfalls, naturally uncommon in the flat country of Upper India, are,
as might have been expected, regarded with veneration, and the deity
of the fall is carefully propitiated. The visitor to the magnificent
waterfall in which the river Chandraprabha pours its waters over
a sheer precipice three hundred feet high in its descent from the
Vindhyan plateau to the Gangetic valley, will learn that it is visited
by women, particularly those who are desirous of offspring. On a
rock beside the fall they lay a simple offering consisting of a few
glass bangles, ear ornaments made of palm leaves, and cotton waist
strings. In Garhwâl there is a waterfall known as Basodhâra, which
ceases to flow when it is looked at by an impure person. [120]
Sacred Lakes.
There are also numerous lakes which are considered sacred and visited
by pilgrims. Such is Pushkar, or Pokhar, the lake par excellence,
in Râjputâna. One theory of the sanctity of this lake is that it was
originally a natural depression and enlarged at a subsequent date
by supernatural agency. "Every Hindu family of note has its niche
for purposes of devotion. Here is the only temple in India sacred to
Brahma, the Creator. While he was creating the world he kindled the
sacred fire; but his wife Sawantarî was nowhere to be found, and as
without a woman the rites could not proceed, a Gûjar girl took her
place. Sawantarî on her return was so enraged at the indignity that
she retired to the height close by, known as Ratnagirî, or 'the hill
of gems,' where she disappeared. On this spot a fountain gushed out,
still called by her name, close to which is her shrine, not the least
attractive in the precincts of Pokhar." Like many of these lakes,
such as are known in Great Britain as the Devil's Punch-bowls, Pokhar
has its dragon legend, and one of the rocks near the lake is known as
Nâgpahâr, or "Dragon Hill." There is a similar legend attached to the
Lonâr Lake in Berâr, which was then the den of the giant Lonâsura,
whom Vishnu destroyed. [121]
Most famous of all the lakes is Mâna Sarovara in Tibet, about which
many legends are told. "The lake of Mâna Sarovara was formed from the
mind of Brahma, and thence derived its name. There dwell also Mahâdeva
and the gods, and thence flow the Sarjû and other female rivers,
and the Satadru (Satlaj) and other male rivers. When the earth of
Mâna Sarovara touches any one's body, or when any one bathes therein,
he shall go to the Paradise of Brahma; and he who drinks its waters
shall go to the Heaven of Siva, and shall be released from the sins
of a hundred births; and even the beast which bears the name of Mâna
Sarovara shall go to the Paradise of Brahma." It is said that the
sons of Brahma, Marichi, Vasishtha and the rest of the sages proceeded
to the north of Himâlaya and performed austerities on Mount Kailâsa,
where they saw Siva and Pârvatî and remained for twelve years absorbed
in meditation and prayer. There was very little rain and water was
scanty. In their distress they appealed to Brahma. He asked them what
their wishes might be. The Rishis replied, "We are absorbed in devotion
on Kailâsa, and must always go thence to bathe in the Mandâkinî river;
make a place for us to bathe in." Then Brahma, by a mental effort,
formed the holy lake of Mânasa, and the Rishis worshipped the golden
Linga which rose from the midst of the waters of the lake. [122]
So the Nainî Tâl Lake is sacred to Kâlî in one of her numerous
forms. The goddess Sambrâ, the tutelary deity of the Chauhân Râjputs,
converted a dense forest into a plain of gold and silver. But they,
dreading the strife which such a possession would excite, begged the
goddess to retract her gift, and she gave them the present lake of
salt. [123] The people say that the Katûr valley was once a great lake
where lived a Râkshasa named Râna who used to devour the inhabitants
of the neighbouring villages. Indra's elephant Airâvata descended
to earth at the place now known after him by the name Hâthi Chîna,
and with his mighty tusks he burst the embankment of the lake and
the water flowed away, so that the goddess Bhrawarî, whose shrine is
there to this day, was enabled to destroy the monster.
The Lake of the Fairy Gifts.
In the Chânda District of the Central Provinces is the lake of Taroba
or Tadala, which is connected with an interesting series of folk-lore
legends. A marriage procession was once passing the place, and, finding
no water, a strange old man suggested that the bride and bridegroom
should join in digging for a spring. They laughingly consented,
and after removing a little earth a clear fountain gushed forth. As
they were all drinking with delight the waters rose, and spreading
over the land, overwhelmed the married pair. "But fairy hands soon
constructed a temple in the depths, where the spirits of the drowned
are supposed to dwell. Afterwards, on the lake side, a palm tree grew
up, which appeared only during the day, sinking into the earth at
twilight. One day a rash pilgrim seated himself on the tree and was
borne into the skies, where the flames of the sun consumed him." This
part of the story reads like a genuine solar myth. "The palm tree then
shrivelled away into dust, and in its place appeared an image of the
spirit of the lake, which is worshipped under the name of Taroba, or
'the palm-tree deity.' Formerly, at the call of pilgrims, all necessary
vessels rose from the lake, and after being washed were returned to
the waters. But an evil-minded man at last took those he had received
to his house, and from that day the mystic provision wholly ceased."
This legend of the fairy gifts which are lost through the selfish
greed of some mean-spirited man has been admirably illustrated by
Mr. Hartland. It is also told of the Amner Lake in Elichpur, of the
Karsota Lake in Mirzapur, and of many other places. [124]
Many of these lakes possess subaqueous palaces beneath their
waters. At Cudden Point in Cornwall, the unhallowed revelry of a
party of roisterers is heard from under the waves. [125] In one
of Somadeva's stories the hero dives after a lady, and comes on a
splendid temple of Siva; Sattvasila falls into the sea and finds a
city with palaces of gold, supported on pillars of jewels; Yasahketu
plunges into the sea and finds a city gleaming with palaces that
had bright pillars of precious stone, walls flashing with gold,
and latticed windows of pearl. So in the sixth fable of the second
chapter of the Hitopadesa, the hero dives into the water and sees a
princess seated on a couch in a palace of gold, waited on by youthful
sylphs. The sage Mandakarni alarmed the gods by his austerities,
and Indra sent five of his fairies to beguile him. They succeeded,
and now dwell in a house beneath the waters of the lake called from
them Panchapsaras. At the Lake of Taroba, the tale of which has been
already told, on quiet nights the country people hear faint sounds
of drum and trumpet passing round the lake, and old men say that in
one dry year when the waters sank low, golden pinnacles of a fairy
temple were seen glittering in the depths. This is exactly the legend
of Lough Neagh, immortalized by Thomas Moore.
The Shâhgarh Lake.
A lake at Shâhgarh in the Bareilly District is the seat of another
legend which appears widely in folk-lore. When Râja Vena ruled the
land, he, like Buddha, struck by the inequality of human life, retired
with his young wife Sundarî or Ketakî to live like a peasant. One
day she went to the lake to draw water, and she had naught but a jar
of unbaked clay and a thread of untwisted cotton. In the innocence of
her heart she stepped into the lake, but the gods preserved her. After
a time she wearied of this sordid life, and one morning she arrayed
herself in her queenly robes and jewels, and going to the lake, as
usual, stepped on the lotus petals. When she plunged in her jar it
melted away, and the untwisted thread broke, and she herself sank
beneath the water. But she was saved, and thenceforward learned the
evil of vanity and pride in riches, and the strength of innocence
and a pure mind. And the lotus pool, in honour of the good queen
Sundarî, was called by all men the Rânî Tâl, or "the Queen's Tank,"
and is to be seen to this day just outside the town of Kâbar, though
the lotus flowers have perished and the castle of Shâhgarh has sunk
into dust. [126]
The same tale is told in Southern India of Renukâ, the mother of
Parasurâma. In its Western form it is told in Switzerland of a pious
boy who served a monastery, and in his innocence was able to carry
water in a sieve without spilling a single drop. [127]
Other Sacred Tanks.
The number of lakes and tanks associated with some legend, or endued
with some special sanctity of their own, is legion. Thus, the tank
at Chakratîratha, near Nîmkhâr, marks the spot where the Chakra or
discus of Vishnu fell during his contest with Asuras. [128] That
near the Satopant glacier is said to be fathomless, and no bird can
fly over it. Bhotiyas presents offerings to the lake, requesting the
water spirit to keep the passes open and aid them in their dangerous
journeys. As they are denied entrance into the temple of Badarinâth,
it has for them all the virtue of Badarinâth itself. [129] Another
famous tank is that at Amritsar, "the Lake of Immortality." A holy
woman once took pity on a leper, and carried him to the banks of the
tank. As he lay there a crow swooped into the water and came out a
dove as white as snow. The leper saw the miracle, bathed, and was
healed. The woman on her return could not recognize her friend, and
withdrew in horror from his embraces. But the Guru Râm Dâs came and
explained matters, and the grateful pair assisted him in embellishing
the tank, which has become the centre of the Sikh religion. The Tadag
Tâl in the Hills is sacred to Bhîm Sen, and the curious fish which
it contains are said to be lice from the body of the hero.
One day a Brâhman was passing the Mandkalla tank and saw a marriage
party sitting before the wedding feast; but they were all most
unaccountably silent and motionless. They asked him to join in the
meal, and he did so with some misgivings, which were soon justified
when he saw the heads of the whole party fall off before his eyes,
and they soon disappeared. [130] The Râja Râma Chandra Sena was once
hunting near the site of the present Dharâwat tank. He saw a crow
drinking from a puddle, and, being in want of water, he ordered the
courtiers to have a tank dug, the limits of which were to be the
space that his horse would gallop round when released. Fortunately
for them they selected a site close to some hills which checked the
course of the horse. This reduced the tank to comparatively moderate
dimensions. [131]
The tank at Lalitpur is famous for the cure of leprosy. One day, a
Râja afflicted with the disease was passing by, and his Rânî dreamt
that he should eat some of the confervæ on the surface. He ate it,
and was cured; and next night the Rânî dreamt that there was a vast
treasure concealed there, which when dug up was sufficient to pay
the cost of excavation. [132] So, at Qasûr is the tank of the saint
Basant Shâh, in which children are bathed to cure them of boils.
Of the Rin Mochan pool the Brâhmans say that any one who bathes there
becomes free from debt. [133] Another at Pushkar turns red if the
shadow of a woman during her menstrual period fall upon it. [134]
Sîtâ proved her virtue by bathing in a tank. She prayed to Mother
Earth, who appeared and carried her to the other bank, an incident of
which a curious parallel is quoted by Mr. Clouston from the Gospel of
the pseudo Mathew. [135] In the legend of Chyavana, as told in the
Mahâbhârata, the three suitors of Sukanyâ bathed in a tank and came
forth of a celestial beauty equal to hers. So in one of the Bengal
folk-tales the old discarded wife bathes in a tank and recovers her
youth and beauty. [136] It is a frequent condition imposed on visitors
to these holy tanks that they should remove a certain quantity of
earth and thus improve it.
Many tanks, again, are supposed to contain buried treasure which is
generally in charge of a Yaksha. Hence such places are regarded with
much awe. There is a tank of this kind in the Bijaygarh fort in the
Mirzapur District, where many speculators have dug in vain; another
forms an incident in Lâl Bihâri Dê's tale of Govinda Sâmanta. [137]
Mountain-worship; the Himâlaya.
"He who thinks of Himâchal (the Himâlaya), though he should not behold
him, is greater than he who performs all worship at Kâsi (Benares);
as the dew is dried up by the morning sun, so are the sins of mankind
by the sight of Himâchal." [138] Such was the devotion with which the
early Hindus looked on it as the home of the gods. Beyond it their
fancy created the elysium of Uttara Kuru, which may be most properly
regarded as an ideal picture created by the imagination of a life of
tranquil felicity, and not as a reminiscence of any actual residence
of the Kurus in the north. [139]
From early times the Himâlayan valleys were the resort of the sage
and the ascetic. Almost every hill and river is consecrated by their
legends, and the whole country teems with memories of the early
religious life of the Hindu race. As in the mythology of many other
peoples, [140] it was regarded as the home of the sainted dead, and
the common source or origin of Hinduism. Its caves were believed to
be the haunt of witches and fairies. Demons lurked in its recesses,
as at the Blockberg, where, as Aubrey tells us, "the devils and
witches do dance and feast." [141] Many of its most noted peaks
are the home of the deities. Siva and Kuvera rest on Mount Kailâsa;
Vaikuntha, the paradise of Vishnu, is on Mount Meru. The whole range
is personified in Himavat, who is the father of Gangâ and Umâ Devî,
who from her origin is known as Pârvatî, or "the mountaineer." One of
the titles of Siva is Girisa, the "mountain god." His son Kârttikeya
delights in the weird mountain heights.
Mountain-worship among the Drâvidians.
But, deeply rooted as the veneration for mountains is in the minds
of the early Aryans, there is reason to suspect that this regard for
mountains may be a survival from the beliefs of non-Aryan races whom
the Hindus supplanted or absorbed. At any rate, the belief in the
sanctity of mountains widely prevails among the non-Aryan or Drâvidian
races. Most of these peoples worship mountains in connection with the
god of the rain. The Santâls sacrifice to Marang Bura on a flat rock
on the top of a mountain, and after feasting, work themselves up into
a state of frenzy to charm the rain. The Korwas and Kûrs worship in
the same way Mainpât, a plateau in the mountainous country south of
the Son. The Nâgbansis and the Mundâri Kols worship a huge rock as
the abode of the "great god," Baradeo. [142] So, in Garhwâl in the
Chhipula pass is a shrine to the god of the mountain. At Tolma is a
temple to the Himâlaya, and below Dungagiri in the same valley is a
shrine in honour of the same peak. [143] In Hoshangâbâd in the Central
Indian plateau, Sûryabhân or "Sun-rays" is a very common name for
isolated round-peaked hills, on which the god is supposed to dwell,
and among the Kurkus, Dungardeo, the mountain god, resides on the
nearest hill outside the village. He is worshipped every year at
the Dasahra festival with a goat, two cocoa-nuts, five dates, with
a ball of vermilion paste, and is regarded by them as their special
god. [144] The idea that dwarfs, spirits, and fairies live on the
tops of mountains is a common belief in Europe.
As in the Himâlaya, one of the main peaks, Nandâ Devî, has been
identified with Pârvatî, the mountain goddess, so the aborigines of
the Central Provinces have in Kattarpâr, the Kattipen of the Khândhs,
a special deity of ravines, as Rhoea Sybeli was to the Etruscans. [145]
In the Mirzapur hills the aboriginal tribes have an intense respect for
mountains. On the Mâtra hill lives a Deo or demon known as Darrapât
Deo. When Râvana abducted Sîtâ he is said to have kept her on this
hill for some time, and her palanquin, turned into stone, is there
to this day. No one ascends the mountain through fear of the demon,
except an Ojha or sorcerer, who sacrifices a goat at the foot of
the hill before he makes the attempt. So, in Garhwâl the peak of
Barmdeo is sacred to Devî, and none can intrude with impunity. A
Faqîr who ventured to do so in the days of yore was pitched across
the river by the offended goddess. [146] On another Mirzapur hill,
Chainpur, lives Kotî Rânî, who is embodied in the locusts which
usually are found there. Similarly Pahâr Pando is a mountain deity
of the Dharkârs, a sub-caste of the Doms. Bansaptî Mâî, who is half a
forest and half a mountain goddess, lives on Jhurma hill, and if any
one dares to sing in her neighbourhood, he becomes sick or mad. These
mountain demons often take the form of tigers and kill incautious
intruders on their domains. On the Aunri hill are two dreaded demons,
Deorâsan and Birwat, the latter a Bîr or malignant ghost of some one
who died a violent death. They rule the hail, and at harvest time the
Baiga offers a goat, and spreading rice on the ground, prays--"O Lord
Mahâdeva! May this offering be effectual." Mangesar, the rugged peak
which frowns over the valley of the Son, is a popular local god of
the various Kolarian races, and a shrine to Bâba or Râja Mangesar,
"the father and the king," is found in many of their villages.
Respect Paid to the Vindhya and Kaimûr Ranges.
The Kaimûr and Vindhyan ranges also enjoy a certain amount of
sanctity. On the latter the most famous shrines are those of Asthbhuja
or "the eight-armed Devî," Sîtâkunda or the pool of Sîtâ, and the
temple of Mahârânî Vindhyeswarî, the patron goddess of the range,
built where it trends towards the Gangetic valley. She has travelled
as far as Cutch, where she is worshipped under the corrupted name
of Vinjân. [147] Her shrine has evil associations with traditions of
human sacrifice, derived from the coarser aboriginal cultus which has
now been adopted into Brâhmanism. [148] There the Thags used to meet
and share their spoils with their patron goddess, and her Pandas or
priests are so disorderly that a special police guard has to be posted
at the shrine to ensure the peaceable division of the offerings among
the sharers, who mortgage and sell their right to participate in the
profits, like the advowson of a living in the English Church.
These two ranges, says the legend, are an offshoot from the
Himâlaya. When Râma was building the bridge across the strait to Lanka,
he sent his followers to Himâlaya to collect materials. They returned
with a mighty burden, but meanwhile the hero had completed his task;
so he ordered them to throw down their loads, and where the stones
fell these ranges were produced. In the same way the Maniparvata at
Ajudhya is said to have been dropped by Sugrîva, the monkey king of
Kishkindhya, and the Irichh hills at Jhânsi are described to have
been formed in the same way.
There is another legend of the Vindhyas told in the story of Nala
and Damayantî. They were jealous of the Himâlaya, the peaks of which
were each morning visited by the earliest rays of the rising sun. The
sun, on being appealed to, declared that it was impossible for him
to change his course. Immediately the Vindhyas swelled with rage,
and rising in the heavens, intercepted the view of the sun, moon,
and the constellations. The gods, alarmed, invoked the aid of the
saint Agastya. He went, accompanied by his wife, and requested the
Vindhyas to sink and let him pass to the south, and not rise till
he returned. They agreed, and gave passage to the saint, but as he
never came back they have never resumed their former height. Agastya
finally settled on the Malayam or Potiyam mountain, not far from
Cape Comorin. He now shines in the heavens as the regent of the star
Canopus, and to him is ascribed almost all the civilization of Southern
India. The legend possibly goes back to the arrival of the earliest
Brâhmanic missionaries in Southern India, and the name of the range,
which probably means "the divider," marked the boundary between the
Aryan and Drâvidian peoples. A similar story is told of one of the
ranges in Nepâl. [149]
Other Famous Hills.
A mention of some other famous hills in Northern India may close
this account of mountain-worship. At Gaya is the Dharma Sila, or
"rock of piety," which was once the wife of the saint Marîchi. The
lord of the infernal regions, by order of Brahma, crushed it down
on the head of the local demon. [150] The hills of Goghar kâ dhâr,
in the Mundi State, have a reputation similar to that of the Brocken
in the Hartz mountains on Wulpurgis night. On the 3rd of September
the demons, witches, and magicians from the most distant parts of
India assemble here and hold their revels, from which time it is
dangerous for men to cross the mountains. The spirits of the Kulu
range are said to wage war with those of the Goghar, and after a
violent storm the peasants will show the traveller the stones which
have been hurled from range to range. The last chief of Mundi was
a mighty wizard himself. He had a little book of spells which the
demons were forced to obey, and when he placed it in his mouth he
was instantly transported where he pleased through the air. [151]
Another famous hill is that of Govardhan, near Mathura. This is
the hill which Krishna is fabled to have held aloft on the tip of
his finger for seven days, to protect the people of Braj from the
tempests poured down on them by Indra when he was deprived of his
wonted sacrifices. There is a local belief that as the waters of
the Jumnâ are yearly decreasing in volume, so this hill is gradually
sinking. Not a particle of stone is allowed to be removed from it,
and even the road which crosses it at its lowest point, where only a
few fragments of the rock crop up overground, had to be carried over
them by a paved causeway. [152]
The Spirits of the Air.
"Aerial spirits or devils are such as keep quarter in the air, cause
many tempests, thunder and lightnings, tear oaks, fire steeples,
houses, strike men and beasts, make it rain wool, frogs, etc. They
cause whirlwinds on a sudden, and tempestuous storms, which though
our meteorologists refer to natural causes, yet I am of Bodin's mind
that they are more often caused by those aerial devils in their several
quarters." [153] This statement of Burton is a good summary of current
Hindu opinion on this subject; and it is just this class of physical
phenomena which civilized man admits to be beyond his control, that
primitive races profess to be able to regulate. As Dr. Taylor puts
it--"The rainfall is passing from the region of the supernatural to
join the tides and seasons in the realm of physical science." [154]
The old weather god was Indra, who wars with Vritra or Ahi, the dragon
demon of drought, whom he compels to dispense the rain. He was revered
as the causer of fertility, and feared as the lord of the lightning
and the thunder. He has now been deposed from his pre-eminence, and
is little more than a roi fainéant, who lives in a luxurious heaven
of his own, solaced by the dances of the fairies who form his court,
one of whom he occasionally bestows on some favoured mortal who wins
his kindness or forces him to obey his orders. But his status is at
present decidedly low, and it is remarkable in what a contemptuous way
even so orthodox a poet as Tulasî Dâs speaks of him. [155] Mr. Wheeler
[156] suggests that this degradation of Indra may possibly be due to
the fact that he was a tribal god notoriously hostile to Brâhmans;
and it is certainly very suggestive from this point of view that he
has come to be regarded as the great deity of the Burman Buddhists. It
is still further remarkable that at Benares, the headquarters of
Brâhmanism, he has been replaced by a special rain god, Dalbhyeswara,
who perhaps takes his name from Dalbhya, an ancient Rishi, who must
be worshipped and kept properly dressed if the seasons are not to
become unfavourable. [157]
Bhîmsen, a Weather Godling.
Bhîmsen, of whom more will be said later on, is regarded by the Gonds
as a god of rain, and has a festival of four or five days' duration
held in his honour at the end of the rainy season, when two poles
about twenty feet high and five feet apart are set up with a rope
attached to the top, by which the boys of the village climb up and
then slide down the poles. This is apparently an instance of rude
sympathetic magic, representing the descent of the rain. [158]
Demoniacal Control of the Weather.
It is an idea common to the beliefs of many races, that the spirits
of the wind may be tied up in sacks and let out to injure an enemy
and assist a friend. To this day the Lapps give their sailors magic
sacks containing certain winds to secure them a safe journey. [159]
Another side of the matter may be illustrated from Marco Polo. "During
the three months of every year that the Lord (Kublai Khân) resides at
that place, if it should happen to be bad weather, there are certain
crafty enchanters and astrologers in his train, who are such adepts in
necromancy and the diabolical arts, that they are able to prevent any
cloud or storm passing over the spot on which the Emperor's palace
stands. Whatever they do in this way is by the help of the Devil;
but they make those people believe that it is compassed by their own
sanctity and the help of God. They always go in a state of dirt and
uncleanness, devoid of respect for themselves or for those who see
them, unkempt and sordidly attired." Timûr in his "Memoirs" speaks
of the Indian Jâts using incantations to produce heavy rain, which
hindered his cavalry from acting against them. A Yadachi was captured,
and when his head had been taken off the storm ceased. Bâbar speaks
of one of his early friends, Khwâjaka Mulai, who was acquainted with
Yadagarî, or the art of bringing on rain and snow by incantations. In
the same way in Nepâl the control of the weather is supposed to be
vested in the Lamas. [160]
Rain-making and Nudity.
One very curious custom of rain-making has a series of remarkable
parallels in Europe. In Servia, in time of drought, a girl is stripped
and covered with flowers. She dances at each house, and the mistress
steps out and pours a jar of water over her, while her companions sing
rain songs. [161] In Russia the women draw a furrow round the village,
and bury at the juncture a cock, a cat, and a dog. "The dog is a
demonic character in Russia, while the cat is sacred. The offering
of both seems to represent a desire to conciliate both sides." [162]
Mr. Conway thinks that the nudity of the women represents their utter
poverty and inability to give more to conciliate the god of the rain;
or that we have here a form of the Godiva and Peeping Tom legend,
"where there is probably a distant reflection of the punishment
sometimes said to overtake those who gazed too curiously upon the
Swan Maiden with her feathers." [163]
The Godiva legend has been admirably illustrated by Mr. Hartland,
[164] who comes to the conclusion that it is the survival of an annual
rite in honour of a heathen goddess, and closely connected with those
nudity observances which we are discussing. The difficulty is, however,
to account for the nudity part of the ceremony. It may possibly be
based on the theory that spirits dread indecency, or rather the male
and female principles. [165]
This may be the origin of the indecencies of word and act practised at
the Holî and Kajarî festivals in Upper India, which are both closely
connected with the control of the weather. Among the Ramoshis of
the Dakkhin the bridegroom is stripped naked before the anointing
ceremony commences, and the same custom prevails very generally
in Upper India. The Mhârs of Sholapur are buried naked, even the
loin-cloth being taken off. Barren women worship a naked female figure
at Bijapur. At Dayamava's festival in the Karnâtak, women walk naked
to the temple where they make their vows; and the Mâng, who carries
the scraps of holy meat which he scatters in the fields to promote
fertility, is also naked. [166] The same idea of scaring evil spirits
from temples possibly accounts for much of the obscene sculpture to
be found on the walls of many Hindu shrines, and it may be noted in
illustration of the same principle that in Nepâl temples are decorated
with groups of obscene figures as a protection against lightning. [167]
Rites Special to Women.
Connected with the same principle it may be noted that in India, as in
many other places, there are rites of the nature of the Bona Dea, in
which only women take part, and from which males are excluded. In some
of these rites nudity forms a part. Thus, in Italy, La Bella Marte is
invoked when three girls, always stark naked, consult the cards to know
whether a lover is true or which of them is likely to be married. [168]
A number of similar usages have been discussed by Mr. Hartland. We
have already noticed the custom of sun impregnation. Among Hindus,
a woman who is barren and desires a child stands naked facing the sun
and desires his aid to remove her barrenness. In one of the folk-tales
the witch stands naked while she performs her spells. [169]
The rain custom in India is precisely the same as has been already
illustrated by examples from Europe. During the Gorakhpur Famine
in 1873-74, there were many accounts received of women going about
with a plough by night, stripping themselves naked and dragging
the plough over the fields as an invocation of the rain god. The
men kept carefully out of the way while this was being done, and it
was supposed that if the women were seen by the men the rite would
lose its effect. Mr. Frazer on this remarks that "it is not said
they plunge the plough into a stream or sprinkle it with water. But
the charm would hardly be complete without it." [170] It was on my
authority that the custom which Messrs. Frazer and Hartland quote
was originally recorded, and I do not remember at the time hearing
of this part of the ritual. Later inquiries do not point to it as
part of the rite in Upper India.
It may be well to adduce other instances of this nudity rite. In Sirsa,
when a horse falls sick, the cure is to kill a fowl or a he-goat and
let its warm blood flow into the mouth of the animal; but if this
cannot be done quickly, it is sufficient for a man to take off all
his clothes and strike the horse seven times on the forehead with his
shoe. [171] Here the nudity and the blows with the shoe are means
to drive off the demon of disease. In Chhattarpur, when rain falls
a woman and her husband's sister take off all their clothes and drop
seven cakes of cow-dung into a mud reservoir for storing grain. If a
man and his maternal uncle perform the same ceremony, it is equally
effective; but as a rule women do it, and the special days for the
rite are Sunday and Wednesday. Here we have the custom in process of
modification, males, one of whom is a relation in the female line,
being substituted for the female officiants.
Another similar means of expelling the demon of disease is given
by Mrs. Fanny Parkes in her curious book entitled "Wanderings of a
Pilgrim in search of the Picturesque." [172] "The Hindu women in a
most curious way propitiate the goddess who brings cholera into the
bâzâr. They go out in the evening, about 7 p.m., sometimes two or
three hundred at a time, each carrying a lota or brass vessel filled
with sugar, water, cloves, etc. In the first place they make pûjâ;
then, stripping off their sheets and binding their sole petticoat
round their waists, as high above the knee as it can be pulled up,
they perform a most frantic sort of dance, forming themselves into
a circle, while in the centre of the circle about five or six women
dance entirely naked, beating their hands together over their heads,
and then applying them behind with a great smack that keeps time with
the music, and with the song they scream out all the time, accompanied
by native instruments played by men who stand at a distance, to
the sound of which these women dance and sing, looking like frantic
creatures. The men avoid the place where the ceremony takes place,
but here and there one or two men may be seen looking on, whose
presence does not seem to molest the nut-brown dancers in the least;
they shriek and sing and dance and scream most marvellously." Here
we find the rule of privacy at these nudity rites slightly modified.
Another instance of the nudity rite in connection with cattle disease
comes from Jâlandhar. [173] "When an animal is sick the remedy is
for some one to strip himself and to walk round the patient with some
burning straw or cane fibre in his hands."
Nudity also appears to be in some places a condition of the erection of
a pinnacle on a Hindu temple. "The Temple of Arang in Râêpur district
and that at Deobalada were built at the same time. When they were
finished and the pinnacles (kalas) had to be put on, the mason and
his sister agreed to put them on simultaneously at an auspicious
moment. The day and hour being fixed by Brâhmans, the two, stripping
themselves naked, according to custom on such occasions, climbed
up to the top. As they got up to the top each could see the other,
and each through shame jumped down into the tank close to their
respective temples, where they still stand turned into stone, and
are visible when the tank water falls low in seasons of drought." [174]
Of the regular nudity rite in case of failure of rain, we have a
recent instance from Chunâr in the Mirzapur district. "The rains
this year held off for a long time, and last night (24th July, 1892)
the following ceremony was performed secretly. Between the hours of
9 and 10 p.m. a barber's wife went from door to door and invited all
the women to join in ploughing. They all collected in a field from
which all males were excluded. Three women from a cultivator's family
stripped off all their clothes; two were yoked to a plough like oxen,
and a third held the handle. They then began to imitate the operation
of ploughing. The woman who had the plough in her hand shouted,
'O Mother Earth! bring parched grain, water and chaff. Our bellies
are bursting to pieces from hunger and thirst.' Then the landlord and
village accountant approached them and laid down some grain, water
and chaff in the field. The women then dressed and went home. By the
grace of God the weather changed almost immediately, and we had a
good shower." [175] Here we see the ceremony elaborately organized;
the privacy taboo is enforced, and the ritual is in the nature of
sympathetic magic, intended to propitiate Mother Earth.
The nudity rite for the expulsion of disease is also found in
Madras. "The image of Mariyamma, cut out of Margosa wood, is carried
from her temple to a stone called a Baddukal, in the centre of the
village, on the afternoon of the first day of the feast. A rounded
stone, about six inches above the ground and about eight inches
across, is to be seen just inside the gate of every village. It
is what is called the Baddukal or navel stone; it is worshipped
in times of calamity, especially during periods of cattle disease;
often women passing it with water pour a little on it, and every one
on first going out of the village in the morning is supposed to give
it some little tribute of attention. The following day all men and
women of Sûdra castes substitute garments of leaves of the Margosa,
little branches tied together, for their ordinary clothes, and thus
attired go with music to the goddess." [176] Here the dress may imply
some form of nudity rite, or may be a reminiscence of the time when,
like the Juângs of Chota Nâgpur, they wore leaf aprons.
There can be little doubt that rites of this kind largely prevail in
India, but, as might naturally be expected, they are very carefully
concealed, and it is extremely difficult to obtain precise information
about them.
Other Rites to bring Rain.
Besides these nudity rites there are many ways of causing rain to
fall. In Kumaun when rain fails they sink a Brâhman up to his lips
in a tank, and there he goes on repeating the name of Râja Indra,
the god of rain, for a day or two, when rain is sure to fall; or they
dig a trench five or six feet deep and make a Brâhman or a Jogi sit
in it, when the god, in pity for the holy man, will relent and give
rain. Another plan is to hang a frog with his mouth open on a bamboo,
and the deity pities him and brings the rain. [177] In Mirzapur they
turn a plough upside down and bury it in a field, rub the lingam of
Mahâdeva with cow-dung, and offer water at the grave of a Brahm or
bachelor Brâhman.
Among the Bhîls in time of drought women and girls go out dancing and
singing with bows and arrows in their hands, and seizing a buffalo
belonging to another village, sacrifice it to the goddess Kâlî. The
headman of the village to which the animal belongs seldom objects
to the appropriation of it. If he does, the women by abusing and
threatening to shoot him always have their own way. [178] Analogous
to this regular rain sacrifice is the custom at Ahmadnagar, where on
the bright 3rd of Baisâkh (April-May) the boys of two neighbouring
villages fight with slings and stones. The local belief is that if
the fight be discontinued, rain fails, or if rain does fall that it
produces a plague of rats. [179] At Ahmadâbâd, again, there is a city
headman, known as the Nagar Seth or "chief man of the town." When rain
holds off he has to perambulate the city walls, pouring out milk to
appease Râja Indra. [180] Here we reach the "sympathetic magic" type
of observance under which most of the other practices may be classed,
though here and there we seem to find the germ of the principle of
vicarious sacrifice. Thus in the Panjâb the village girls pour down
on an old woman as she passes some cow-dung dissolved in water; or
an old woman is made to sit down under the house-roof spout and get
a wetting when it rains. Here the idea must be that her sufferings
in some way propitiate the angry god. In the Muzaffarnagar District,
if rain fails, they worship Râja Indra and read the story of the
Megha Râja, or king of the rain. In his name they give alms to the
poor and release a young bull or buffalo. Crushed grain is cooked
on the edge of a tank in his honour and in the name of the rain god
Khwâja Khizr, and some offering is made to Bhûmiya, the lord of the
soil. In Chhattarpur, on a wall facing the east, they paint two figures
with cow-dung--one representing Indra and the other Megha Râja, with
their legs up and their heads hanging down. It is supposed that the
discomfort thus caused to them will compel them to grant the boon of
rain. The Mirzapur Korwas, when rain fails, get the Baiga to make a
sacrifice and prayer to Sûraj Deota, the Sun godling.
Another common plan in Upper India is for a gang of women to come
out to where a man is ploughing and drive him and his oxen by force
back to the village, where he and his cattle are well fed. Another
device is to seize the blacksmith's anvil and pitch it into a well or
the village tank. We have already given instances of the connection
of wells with rainfall, such as the case of the well in Farghâna
which caused rain if defiled. [181] Mr. Gomme has collected several
European instances of the same belief. [182] The anvil is probably
used for this purpose because it is regarded as a sort of fetish,
and the blacksmith himself is, as we shall see later on, considered
as invested with supernatural powers.
In the Panjâb, apparently on the principle of vicarious sacrifice
to which reference has been already made, an earthen pot of filth
is carried to the door of some old woman cursed with a bad temper,
and thrown down at her threshold, which is a sacred place. If she then
falls into a rage and gives vent to her feelings in abusive language,
the rain will come down. The old woman is considered a sort of witch,
and if she is punished the influence which restrains the rain will
be removed. [183]
There are numerous instances in which the king is held responsible
for a failure of the rain. In Kângra there are some local gods whose
temples are endowed with rent-free lands. When rain is wanted, these
deities are ordered to provide it; and if they fail, they have to pay
a fine into the Râja's treasury. This is the way the Chinese treat
their gods who refuse to do their duty. [184]
The song of Alha and Udal, which describes the struggle between the
Hindus and the early Muhammadan invaders, is sung in Oudh to procure
rain. In the Hills smart showers are attributed to the number of
marriages going on at the time in the plains. The bride and bridegroom,
as we shall see in the legend of Dulha Deo, are particularly exposed
to the demoniacal influence of the weather. In the Eastern Districts
of the North-Western Provinces the people will not kill wolves, as
they say that wherever there falls a drop of a wolf's blood the rain
will be deficient.
To close this catalogue of devices to procure rain, we may note that it
is a common belief that sacred stones are connected with rainfall. In
the temple of Mars at Rome there was a great stone cylinder which, when
there was a drought, was rolled by the priests through the town. [185]
In Mingrelia, to get rain they dip a holy image in water daily till
it rains. In Navarre the image of St. Peter was taken to a river,
where some prayed to him for rain, but others called out to duck him
in the water. [186] A stone in the form of a cross at Iona was used
for the same purpose. [187] So in India the relics of Gautama Buddha
were believed to have the same influence. [188] In Behâr in seasons
of drought a holy stone, known as Nârâyana Chakra, is kept in a vessel
of water; sometimes a piece of plantain leaf on which are written the
names of one hundred and eight villages beginning with the letter K
and not ending in Pur is thrown into the water. [189] In the same
way the lingam of Mahâdeva, a thirsty deity, who needs continual
cooling to relieve his distress, must be kept continually moist to
avoid drought. Not long ago when rain failed at Mirzapur, the people
contributed to maintain a gang of labourers who brought water to pour
on a famous lingam. The same custom prevails in Samoa. [190] There,
when rain was excessive, the stone representing the rain-making god was
laid by the fire and kept warm till fine weather set in; but in time
of drought the priest and his followers, dressed up in fine mats, went
in procession to the stream, dipped the stone, and prayed for a shower.
Devices to Cause Rain to Cease.
In England when rain is in excess the little children sing, "Rain!
Rain! Go away! Come again on a Saturday!"
In India there are many devices intended to secure the same object. One
is the reverse of the nudity charm which we have already discussed. In
Madras, a woman, generally an ugly widow, is made to dance, sometimes
naked, with a burning stick in her hand and facing the sky. This is
supposed to disgust Varuna, the sky god, who shrinks away from such
a sight and withholds the rain. [191] Other devices have the same
object, to put pressure on the deities who are responsible for the
excessive rain. Thus, in Muzaffarnagar the Muni or Rishi Agastya, who
is a great personage in early folk-lore, is supposed to have power to
stop the rain. When rain is in excess they draw a figure of him on a
loin cloth and put it out in the rain. Some paint his figure on the
outside of the house and let the rain wash it away. This generally
brings him to his senses and he gives relief. Another practice, which
is believed to be employed by evil-minded people who are selfishly
interested in a drought, is to light a lamp with melted butter and
put it outside when the rain-clouds collect. The rain god is afraid
to put out the sacred light, and retires. Another way in use in the
Panjâb is to give an unmarried girl some oil and get her to pour
it on the ground, saying, "If I pour not out the oil, mine the sin;
if thou disperse not the clouds, thine the sin." In Mirzapur it is
considered a good plan to name twenty-one men who are blind of an eye,
and consequently ill-omened, and make twenty-one knots in a cord and
tie it under the eaves of the house. In Kumaun many devices are used to
effect the same result. Some hot oil is poured into the left ear of a
dog. When the pain makes him yell it is believed that Râja Indra takes
pity on him and stops the rain. Another plan is very like the Mirzapur
device. Five, seven, or eleven grains of Urad pulse are placed in a
piece of cloth, wrapped up and tied with a treble cord. Each grain
bears the name of a blind person, known to the man who is carrying
out the rite. This is known as the "binding of the blind men." The
packet is either buried under the eaves of a house where the water
drips, or put in a tree. The object is to excite the compassion of
Râja Indra by their sufferings. Others take seven pieces of granite,
seven grains of mustard, and seven bits of goat-dung, parch them in an
oven, and then put them under the drip of the eaves. These represent
the demons, who are enemies of Indra, and he is so pleased at their
discomfiture that he disperses the clouds. Others fix up a harrow
perpendicularly where four roads meet. As this instrument is always
used in a horizontal position, this indicates that gross injustice
is being done to the world, and the rain god relents. Others when
the thunder roars in the rain-clouds invoke the saint Agastya, who
once drank up all the waters of the world in four sips; so all the
clouds fear him and disperse when he is invoked.
Another favourite plan is to fee a Brâhman to make sixty holes in a
piece of wood and run a string through all of them. While he is thus
"binding up the rain" he recites spells in honour of the Sun godling,
Sûraj Nârâyan, who is moved to interfere. Others take a piece of
unleavened bread, go into the fields and place it on the ground;
or taking some sugar, rice, and other articles ordinarily used in
worship to a place where four roads meet, defile them in a particularly
disgusting way. On such substances the rain is ashamed to fall. In
Bombay a leaf-plate filled with cooked rice and curds is placed in
some open spot where the rain can see it and avoid it. If the rain
should persist in coming, a live coal is laid on a tile and placed in
some open place, where it is implored to swallow the hateful rain. All
these practices are magic of the ordinary sympathetic kind. [192]
Rain-clouds are supposed also to be under the influence of the Evil
Eye, and will blow over without giving rain if the malicious glance
falls upon them. Hence, when rain is needed, if any one runs out of
a house bareheaded while it is raining, he is ordered in at once,
or he is told to put on his cap or turban, for a bareheaded man is
apt to wish involuntarily that the rain may cease, and thus injure
his neighbours.
Everywhere it is believed that the Banya or cornchandler, who is
interested in high prices, buries some water in an earthen pot in
order to stop the rain.
Hail and Whirlwind.
The hail and the whirlwind are, like most of the natural phenomena
which we have been discussing, attributed to demoniacal agency. The
Maruts who ride on the whirlwind and direct the storm hold a prominent
place in the Veda, where they are represented as the friends and
allies of Indra. Another famous tempest demon was Trinâvartta, who
assumed the form of a whirlwind and carried off the infant Krishna,
but was killed by the child.
Mr. Leland [193] tells a curious Italian story of a peasant who killed
the church sexton with his billhook because he stopped ringing the
bell and thus allowed the hail to injure his vines. This illustrates
a well-known principle that demons, and in particular the demon
who brings the hail, can be scared by noise. Thus Aubrey tells us:
[194]--"At Paris, when it begins to thunder and lighten, they do
presently ring out the great bell at the Abbey of St. Germain, which
they do believe makes it cease. When it thundered and lightened they
did ring St. Adelm's bell in Malmesbury Abbey. The curious do say that
the ringing of bells exceedingly disturbs spirits." Hence one plan of
driving away the hail is to take out an iron griddle-plate and beat
it with a bamboo. Here the use of iron, a well-known demon scarer,
increases the efficacy of the rite. It is also an improvement if this
be done by a virgin, and in some places it is considered sufficient
if when the hail falls an unmarried girl is sent out with an iron
plate in her hand. Possibly following out the same train of ideas,
the Kharwârs of Mirzapur, when hail falls, throw into the courtyard
the wooden peg of the corn-mill, which, as we shall see, is considered
possessed of certain magical powers.
In Muzaffarnagar, when hail begins they pray at once to two noted
demons, Ismâîl Jogi and Nonâ Chamârin, and ring a bell in a Saiva
temple to scare the demon.
Another method is to put pressure on the hail demon by the pretence
of sheer physical pain. Thus in Multân it is believed that if you
can catch a hailstone in the air before it reaches the ground and
cut it in two with a pair of scissors the hail will abate. [195]
Not long ago a lady at Namî Tâl, when a hailstorm came on, saw her
gardener rush into the kitchen and bring out the cook's chopper,
with which he began to make strokes on the ground where the hail was
falling. It appeared on inquiry that he believed that the hail would
dread being cut and cease to fall. [196] In Kumaun, where hail is much
dreaded, there are many devices of the same kind. Some put an axe in
the open air with the edge turned up, so that the hailstones may be
cut in pieces and cease falling. Another plan is to spit at the hail
as it falls, or to sprinkle the hailstones with blood drawn from some
famous magician, a rite which can hardly be anything but a survival of
human sacrifice. A third device is to call an enchanter and make him
blow a conch-shell in the direction of the hail. Others put a churn
in the open air when the rain is falling, in the belief that when
the hailstones touch it they will become as soft as butter. Others,
again, when hail falls, send out a wizard or one possessed by some
deity and make him beat the hailstones with a shoe. [197]
There are, again, certain persons specially in charge of the
hail. Thus, "at the town of Cleonæ in Argolis there were watchmen
maintained at the public expense to look out for hailstorms. When
they saw a hail-cloud approaching they made a signal, whereupon the
farmers turned out and sacrificed lambs and fowls. They believed that
when the clouds had tasted the blood they would turn aside and go
somewhere else. If any man was too poor to afford a lamb or a fowl,
he pricked his finger with a sharp instrument and offered his own
blood to the clouds; and the hail, we are told, turned aside from his
fields as readily as from those where it had been propitiated with
the blood of victims." [198] In the same way the duty of charming
away the hail is, in Kumaun, entrusted to a certain class of Brâhmans
known as Woli or Oliya (ola, "hail"). Their method is to take a dry
gourd, which they fill with pebbles, grains of Urad pulse, mustard,
goat-dung and seeds of cotton. This is then tied by a triple cord
to the highest tree on a mountain overhanging the village. Until the
crops are cut the Oliya goes to this place every day and mutters his
incantations. If the crops are reaped without disaster of any kind
he is liberally remunerated. [199]
As has been already said, whirlwinds are the work of demons. The
witches in Macbeth meet in thunder, lightning and rain, they can loose
and bind the winds and cause vessels to be tempest-tossed at sea. The
same principle was laid down by Pythagoras; [200] and Herodotus [201]
describes the people of Psylli marching in a body to fight the south
wind which had dried up their water-tanks. In Ireland it is believed
that a whirlwind denotes that a devil is dancing with a witch; or
that the fairies are rushing by, intent on carrying off some victim
to fairyland. The only help is to fling clay at the passing wind,
and the fairies will be compelled to drop the mortal child or the
beautiful young girl they have abducted. [202] A gentleman at Listowel
not long ago was much astonished when a cloud of dust was being blown
along a road to see an old woman rush to the side and drag handfuls
of grass out of the fence, which she threw in great haste into the
cloud of dust. He inquired and learned that this was in order to give
something to the fairies which were flying along in the dust. So in
Italy, Spolviero is the wind spirit which flies along in the dust
eddies. [203]
In the Panjâb Pheru [204] is the deity of the petty whirlwinds which
blow when the little dust-clouds rise in the hot weather. He was a
Brâhman, and a long story is told of him, how he worshipped Sakhi
Sarwar, was made Governor of Imânâbâd by Akbar, but he abandoned
the saint and returned to his caste, whereupon he was afflicted with
leprosy. When he repented he was cured by eating some magical earth
and believed in the saint till he died. His shrine is at Miyânkê, in
the Lahore District, and when a Panjâbi sees a whirlwind he calls out,
Bhâi Pheru, teri kâr--"May Bhâi Pheru protect us!" Another whirlwind
demon, the saint Rahma, was once neglected at the wheat harvest,
and he raised a whirlwind which blew for nine days in succession,
and wrought such damage in the threshing-floors that since then his
shrine receives the appropriate offerings. On the same principle
whirlwinds are called in Bombay Bagâlya or devils. [205]
Among the Mirzapur Korwas, when a dust-storm comes, the women thrust
the house broom, which, as we shall see, is a demon scarer, into the
thatch, so that it may not be blown away. The Pankas in the same way
make their women hold the thatch and throw the rice mortar and the
flour-mill pivot into the courtyard. The wind is ashamed of being
defeated by the power of women and ceases to blow.
Aerolites.
All over the world people say that if when a meteor or falling star
darts across the sky they can utter a wish before it disappears,
that wish will be granted. The old Norsemen believed that it implied
that a dragon was flashing through the air. In Italy [206] the sight
of such a body is a cure for blear eyes. In India it is believed that
the residence of a soul in heaven is proportionate to the charities
done by him on earth, and when his allotted period is over he falls
as an aerolite. A falling star means that the soul of some great man
is passing through the air, and when people see one of these stars
they thrust their five fingers into their mouths to prevent their own
souls from joining his company. Many of these aerolites are worshipped
as lingams in Saiva shrines. One which fell at Sîtâmarhi in Bengal
in 1880, has now been deified, and is worshipped as Adbhût-nâtha, or
"the miraculous god." [207]