Born about 1624.—Died 1688.
This distinguished traveller was born at Angers about the year 1624.
Though educated for the medical profession, and actuated in an
extraordinary manner by that ardour for philosophical speculation
which pervaded his literary contemporaries, the passion for travelling
prevailed over every other; so that, having prepared himself by severe
study for visiting distant countries with advantage, and taken his
doctor’s degree at Montpellier, he departed from France in the year 1654,
and passed over into Syria. From thence he proceeded to Egypt, where
he remained upwards of a year. In this country he assiduously occupied
himself in inquiries respecting the sources of the Nile, the time and
manner of its rise, the causes and nature of the plague, and the fall
of that dew which is said to deprive its virus of all activity. Being
at Rosetta eight or ten days after this dew had shed its mysterious
moisture over the earth, he had an opportunity, which had like to have
cost him dear, of discovering the absurdity of the popular belief upon
this subject. He was at supper with a party of friends at the house of M.
Bermon, vice-consul of France, when three persons were suddenly stricken
with the plague. Of these, two died in the course of eight days; and the
third, who was M. Bermon himself, seemed likely to follow their example,
when our medical traveller undertook the treatment of his disease. What
medicines he administered to his patient he has not stated, but he
lanced the pestiferous pustules which rose upon the skin; and either by
performing this operation, or by inhaling the infected atmosphere of the
sick chamber, himself caught the infection. The patient now recovered,
while the physician in turn became the prey of disease. When Bernier
perceived himself to be in the plague, the first step he took was to
swallow an emetic of butter of antimony, which, together with the natural
force of his constitution, subdued the disorder, and enabled him in the
course of three or four days to resume his ordinary pursuits. He was,
perhaps, somewhat indebted to his Bedouin attendant for the preservation
of his cheerfulness and tranquillity during his illness. This man,
relying, or appearing to rely, upon the doctrine of predestination, in
order to cheer and encourage him, by showing him how lightly he thought
of the matter, used daily to eat the remainder of the food which his sick
master had touched.
Having satisfied his curiosity respecting Egypt, and visited Mount
Sinai and the neighbouring deserts, he proceeded to Suez, and embarked
in an Arab vessel for Jidda. The Turkish bey, then governor of this
post, had deluded him with the hope of being able to visit Mecca and
the Kaaba, places interdicted to all Christians; but having waited
for this permission thirty-four days, and perceiving no likelihood of
obtaining it, he again embarked; and sailing for fifteen days along the
coast of Arabia Felix, or Yeman, arrived at Mokha, near the straits of
Babelmandel. During his stay in this city, he partook of the hospitality
of Murad, an Armenian Christian, and a native of Aleppo, but who had
settled in Abyssinia, whence he was now come into Arabia with a number
of black slaves to be disposed of for the benefit of the Abyssinian
king, from whom he likewise bore the customary annual present which that
august monarch made to the English and Dutch East India companies, in
the hope of receiving one of greater value in return. With the proceeds
of the slaves Indian merchandise was purchased; so that in exchange
for a few useless subjects, his Abyssinian majesty annually received a
large quantity of fine muslins, spices, and diamonds. With this honest
Armenian merchant our traveller had a very characteristic transaction,
which, although it happened some time after the visit to Mokha, may very
well come in here. Murad, it seems, in addition to his Aleppine wife,
maintained a harem of Nubian or Abyssinian girls, by one of whom he had
a son, who to the pure black complexion of his mother united the fine
handsome features peculiar to the Caucasian race. This noble little
fellow Murad, who was desirous of turning the produce of his harem to
account, offered to sell M. Bernier for fifty rupees; but observing that
his guest was extremely anxious to possess the prize, he suddenly changed
his mind, and refused to part with his darling son for less than three
hundred rupees. At this strange instance of rapacity our traveller became
offended, and broke off the negotiation; though, as he tells us, he was
peculiarly desirous of concluding the bargain, as much for the sake of
the boy as for the purpose of seeing a father sell his own child. There
seems, however, to be some reason for suspecting that the Armenian was
not quite so nearly related to the boy as he pretended, his paternity
being in all probability feigned, for the purpose of enhancing the price
of his little slave.
From Mokha it was Bernier’s intention to have crossed the Red Sea to the
island of Mesowa and Arkiko, from whence he expected an easy passage
might be obtained into the country of Habesh or Abyssinia. To dissuade
him from his purpose, however, Murad and others, who might, perhaps, have
had some sinister motives for their conduct, assured him, that since the
expulsion of the Jesuits, effected by the intrigues of the queen-mother,
no Roman Catholic was secure in the country, where a poor Capuchin
friar, who attempted to enter it by way of Snakin, had recently lost his
head. These and other considerations turned the current of his ideas. He
abandoned Africa, and, embarking on board of an Indian ship bound for
Surat, sought the shores of Hindostan.
On the arrival of our traveller in India, those fratricidal wars between
the sons of Shah Johan, which terminated with the dethronement of the
aged emperor and the accession of Aurungzebe to the throne of Delhi,
had already commenced, and confusion, terror, and anarchy prevailed
throughout the empire. Nevertheless Bernier hastened to the capital,
where, finding that partly by robbery, partly by the ordinary expenses of
travelling, his finances had been reduced to a very low ebb, he contrived
to be appointed one of the physicians to the Great Mogul.
About twelve months before Bernier’s appointment to this office, the
emperor, who, though upwards of seventy, was immoderately addicted to
the excesses of the harem, had become grievously ill from that disorder,
it is supposed, which cut off untimely the chivalrous rival of the
Emperor Charles V. His four sons imagining, and all, indeed, excepting
the eldest, ardently desiring, that he might be drawing near his end,
had at once rushed to arms, and with powerful armaments collected in
their various subahs, or governments, had advanced towards the capital,
each animated by the hope of opening himself a way to _musnud_ through
the hearts of his brethren. Their battles, negotiations, intrigues, and
mutual treachery, though related in a vivid and energetic manner by
Bernier, can find no place in this narrative. Aurungzebe, having defeated
and put to flight the Rajah Jesswunt Singh, was now advancing towards the
capital, when his eldest brother, Dara, incensed at his audacity, and
naturally impatient of delay, advanced with the imperial army towards the
Chumbul and that range of mountain passes which extends between the Jumna
and Guzerat. Here a battle was fought, in which Aurungzebe was victor.
Dara, with the wretched remnant of his forces, fled towards Ahmedabad,
the ancient Mohammedan capital of Guzerat. In this miserable plight he
was met by Bernier, whom the prince, who had known him at Delhi, and had
now no medical attendant, compelled to follow in his train. In the East
misfortune is singularly efficacious in thinning the ranks of a prince’s
retinue. Dara was now accompanied by little more than two thousand men,
and this number, moreover, was daily diminished by the peasantry of
the country, a wild and savage race, who hung upon his rear, pillaging
and murdering all those who lagged for a moment behind the body of the
army. It was now the midst of summer; the heat was tremendous; and the
fugitives, without baggage or tents, had to make their way over the naked
sandy plains of Ajmere, by day exposed to the intolerable rays of the
sun, and by night to the dews and chilling blasts which sometimes issue
from the northern mountains. However, the prince and his followers pushed
on rapidly, and now began to entertain some hopes of safety, having
approached to within one day’s journey of Ahmedabad, the governor of
which had been promoted to the post by Dara himself. But the emissaries
and the gold of Aurungzebe had already done their work at Ahmedabad. The
treacherous governor, on hearing of the near approach of the prince,
wrote to prohibit his drawing nearer the city, informing him that if he
persisted he would find the gates shut, and the people in arms against
him. On the evening before this news was brought to him, Dara had taken
refuge with his harem in a caravansary, into which, in spite of the
natural aversion of all orientals to introduce strangers among the women
of their anderûn, he kindly invited Bernier, apprehending lest the
sanguinary peasantry should beat out his brains in the darkness. Here it
was melancholy to see the shifts to which this unfortunate prince was
driven to have recourse for the preserving, even in this last extremity,
of the dignity of his harem; for, possessing neither tent nor any other
effectual covering, he caused a few slight screens to be fixed up, in
order to maintain some semblance of seclusion, and these were kept steady
by being tied to the wheels of Bernier’s wagon.
Meanwhile, as the determination of the governor of Ahmedabad was not
yet known, the most intense anxiety prevailed among the fugitives.
Every gust which moaned along the surrounding waste appeared to their
half-slumbering senses to announce the approach of some messenger.
The hours, which seem to flit away so rapidly when men are happy, now
appeared so many ages. Time and the wheeling stars above their heads
seemed to stand still; and their very souls were sick with expectation.
At length, as the red dawn began to appear in the east, a single horseman
was discovered scouring across the plain. His tidings from Ahmedabad were
such as have been related above. Upon hearing this dreadful intelligence,
the ladies of the harem, who had hitherto consoled themselves with the
hope of tasting a little repose in that city, which had become a kind of
land of promise in their eyes, gave themselves up wholly to despair, and
tears, sobs, and the most passionate lamentations burst unrestrainedly
forth, and brought tears into the eyes of many not much used to weeping.
Every thing was now thrown into the utmost trouble and confusion. Each
person looked at the face of his neighbour, in the hope of discovering
some ray of consolation, some sign of counsel, fore-thought, or
magnanimity. But all was blank. Not a soul could advise any thing for
the general safety, or knew how to avert the doom which impended over
himself. Presently, however, Dara, half-dead with grief, came out to his
people, and addressed himself now to one person, now to another, even to
the meanest soldier. He perceived that terror had seized upon every soul,
and that they were all about to abandon him. What was to be his fate?
Whither could he fly? It was necessary to depart instantly. The condition
of the army may be conjectured from that of our traveller. The wagon in
which he travelled had been drawn by three large Guzerat oxen, one of
which had died on the previous day from fatigue, another was now dying,
and the third was wholly unable to move. Nevertheless, the prince, who
stood in need of his aid both for himself and for one of his wives, who
had been wounded in the leg, found it absolutely impossible to procure
either horse, ox, or camel for his use, and was therefore compelled
to leave him behind. Bernier saw him depart with tears in his eyes,
accompanied at most by four or five horsemen, and two elephants said to
be loaded with silver and gold. He struck off towards Tettabakar, through
pathless deserts of sand, where, for the most part, not a drop of water
was to be found; and though, as afterward appeared, he actually succeeded
in reaching the point of destination, several of his followers, and,
indeed, many of his harem, died by the way of thirst or fatigue, or were
murdered by the banditti.
Bernier, being thus abandoned by the ill-fated prince, in a country
overrun with robbers, was at a loss what course to pursue. The
circumstances of the moment, however, left him no time for deliberation;
for no sooner had Dara and his train disappeared than our traveller’s
wagon was surrounded by the banditti, who forthwith commenced the
work of plunder. Fortunately, his servant and driver preserved their
presence of mind, and, addressing themselves to the marauders, began to
inquire whether they would thus pillage the effects of a man who was the
first physician in the world, and had already been deprived of the most
valuable part of his property by the satellites of Dara. At the mention
of the word _physician_ these fierce banditti, who, like all barbarians,
entertained a kind of innate reverence for the children of Esculapius,
were rendered as mild as gazelles, and their hostile intentions were
changed into friendship. They now regarded this second Pæon as their
guest, and, having detained him seven or eight days, kindly furnished
him with an ox to draw his wagon, and served him as guides and guards
until the towers of Ahmedabad appeared in sight. At this city he remained
several days, when an emir, returning thence to Delhi, afforded him the
protection of his authority, and enabled him to perform the journey with
safety. The road over which they travelled exhibited numerous traces of
the calamities of the times, being strewed at intervals with the dead
bodies of men, elephants, camels, horses, and oxen, the wrecks of the
wretched army of Dara.
Aurungzebe, having outwitted and imprisoned his father, was now in
possession of Delhi and the imperial throne, and exerted all the force
of his versatile and subtle genius to gain possession of the persons of
his enemies. Dara, the principal of these, was soon afterward betrayed
into his hands, and brought to Delhi upon an elephant, bound hand and
foot, with an executioner behind him, who upon the least movement was to
cut off his head. When he arrived at the gate of the city, Aurungzebe
began to deliberate whether it would be altogether safe, under present
circumstances, to parade him in this style through the streets,
considering the affection which the people had always borne him; but
it was at length determined to hazard the step, for the purpose of
convincing those who admired him of his utter fall, and of the consequent
extinction of their hopes. His rich garments, his jewelled turban, his
magnificent necklace of pearls, had been taken from him, and a dirty and
miserable dress, such as would have suited some poor groom, bestowed in
their stead; and thus habited, and mounted with his little son upon a
poor half-starved elephant, he was led through the streets, lanes, and
bazaars of the capital, that the people might behold the fortune of their
favourite, and despair of his ever rising again. Expecting that some
strange revolution or horrible slaughter would inevitably ensue, Bernier
had repaired on horseback, with a small party of friends and two stout
servants, to the grand bazaar, where the most prodigious crowds were
assembled, in order to witness whatever might take place; but although
the multitude burst into tears at the sight, and overwhelmed the wretch
who had betrayed him, and was then on horseback by his side, with the
most dire imprecations, not a sword was drawn, or a drop of blood spilt.
During the course of these public events Bernier became physician to
Danekmand Khan, the favourite of Aurungzebe. Upon this appointment, he
seems to have been introduced at court, and presented to the emperor;
upon which occasion he kissed the hem of the imperial garment, and
offered, for so custom ordered, eight rupees as a gift to the richest
sovereign upon earth. He was now perfectly at his ease, enjoying,
besides a liberal salary, which seems to have answered all his wishes,
the friendship of the khan, a learned, inquisitive, and generous-minded
man, who devoted those hours which others spent in debauchery to the
discussion of philosophical questions, and conversations on the merits
of Descartes and Gassendi. By the favour of this nobleman the entry to
the palace was open to him on all public occasions. He witnessed the
audience of foreign ambassadors, the pomp of the imperial banquets, and
was admitted, under certain circumstances, into the recesses of the harem.
Upon the termination of the civil wars, the Usbecks of Balkh and
Samarcand, who, having formerly offered a grievous insult to Aurungzebe
when he seemed little likely to ascend the imperial _musnud_, had now
some reason to apprehend the effects of his resentment, despatched
ambassadors to congratulate him upon his accession to the throne, and to
make him a tender of their services. When these barbarians were admitted
to an audience, Bernier, according to custom, was present. Being admitted
into the imperial chamber, they made, while yet at a considerable
distance from the throne, their salām to the emperor, after the Indian
manner. This ceremony consisted in thrice placing the hand upon the head,
and as frequently lowering it to the earth; after which they advanced
so near the throne that, had he chosen to do so, the emperor might have
taken their letters from their own hands; but this compliment he did not
condescend to pay them, ordering one of his emirs to receive and present
them to him. Having perused these letters with a serious air, he caused
each of the ambassadors to be presented with a robe of brocade, a turban,
and a scarf or girdle of embroidered silk. The presents were then brought
forward. They consisted of several boxes of lapis lazuli, a number of
long-haired camels, several magnificent Tartarian horses, with many
camel-loads of fresh fruit, such as apples, pears, grapes, and melons,
articles which their country usually furnished for the Delhi market, and
an equal quantity of dried fruits, as Bokham prunes, Kishmish apricots
or grapes without stones, and two other species of fine large grapes.
Aurungzebe bestowed high commendations upon each article as it was
presented, praised the generosity of the khans, and having made some few
inquiries respecting the academy of Samarcand, dismissed the ambassadors
with the complimentary wish that he might see them frequently.
These honest men, who were exceedingly pleased at their reception, were
nevertheless constrained to wait four months at Delhi before they could
obtain their dismissal; during which time they all fell sick, and many of
them died, rather, according to Bernier, from the bad quality of their
food, and their contempt of cleanliness, than from the effect of the
climate. Judging from this specimen, our traveller pronounced the Usbecks
the most avaricious and sordid people upon earth; for, though furnished
by the emperor with the means of living, they preferred defrauding their
stomachs and hazarding their lives, to the idea of parting with their
gold, and subsisted in a very wretched and mean style. When dismissed,
however, they were treated with great distinction. The emperor and all
his emirs presented them with rich dresses and eight thousand rupees
each; together with splendid robes, a large quantity of exquisitely
flowered brocade, bales of fine muslin, and of silk striped with gold or
silver, and a number of carpets and two jewelled khaudjars, or poniards,
for their masters.
In the hope of learning something respecting their country, Bernier
frequently visited them during their stay, but found them so grossly
ignorant that they were unable to make any important additions to his
knowledge. They invited him to dinner, however, and thus afforded his
curiosity a glance at their domestic manners. Among them a stranger, as
might be expected, was not overwhelmed with ceremony, and so far they
were polite. The viands, which our traveller considered extraordinary,
consisted of excellent horse-flesh, a very good ragout, and an abundance
of pilau, which his robust hosts found so much to their taste, that
during the repast they could not snatch a single moment to waste on
conversation. Their guest, with infinite good taste, imitated their
example, made a hearty dinner; and then, when the horse-flesh, pilau, and
all had been devoured, they found their tongue, and entertained him with
panegyrics upon their own skill in archery, and the amazonian prowess and
ferocity of their women. In illustration of the latter, they related an
anecdote which, as highly characteristic, may be worth repeating. When
Aurungzebe formerly led an army against the khan of Samarcand, a party
of twenty or thirty Hindoo horsemen attacked a small village, which they
plundered, and were engaged in binding a number of the inhabitants whom
they intended to dispose of as slaves, when an old woman came up to
them and said, “My children, be not so cruel. My daughter, who is not
greatly addicted to mercy, will be here presently. Retire, if you are
wise. Should she meet with you, you are undone.” The soldiers, however,
not only laughed at the old woman and her counsel, but seized and tied
her also. They had not proceeded above half a league with their booty,
when their aged prisoner, who never ceased turning her eyes towards the
village, uttered a scream of joy, for by the cloud of dust which she
beheld rising on the plain she knew her daughter was advancing to the
rescue. On turning round, the soldiers beheld the amazon mounted on a
fiery war-horse, with her bow and quiver by her side. She now raised
her stentorian voice, and commanded them as they valued their lives
to release their prisoners, and carry back whatever they had taken to
the village, in which case she would spare them. But they regarded her
menaces no more than they had those of her mother. When three or four of
the party, however, had felt the point of her arrows in their heart, and
were stretched upon the earth, they began to be a little more alarmed,
and had recourse to their own bows. But all their arrows fell short of
the mark, while her powerful bow and arm sent every weapon home, so that
she quickly despatched the greater number of her enemies, and having
dispersed and terrified the remainder, rushed upon them sabre in hand,
and hewed them to pieces.
During the number of years which Bernier spent in Hindostan in a
position peculiarly favourable to observation, he possessed ample
leisure for correcting and maturing his opinions. His views, therefore,
are entitled to the highest respect, the more especially as no trait
of gasconading is visible in his character, and no touch of rhetorical
flourishing in his style. His countrymen, in general, assuming Paris as
the standard of whatever is noble or beautiful in architecture, describe
every thing which differs from their type as inferior; but Bernier,
whom philosophy had delivered from this paltry nationality, without
depreciating the capital of his own country, observes, that whatever
might be its beauties, they would be but so many defects could the city
be transported to the plains of Hindostan, the climate requiring other
modes of building, and different arrangements. Delhi was, in fact, a
magnificent city in his times. Whatever Asia could furnish of barbaric
pomp or gorgeous show was there collected together, and disposed with as
much taste as Mongol or Persian art could give birth to. Domes of vast
circumference and fantastic swell crowned the summits of the mosques,
and towered aloft above the other structures of the city; palaces, cool,
airy, grotesque, with twisted pillars, balustrades of silver, and roofs
of fretted gold; elephants moving their awkward and cumbrous bulk to
and fro, disguised in glittering housings, and surmounted with golden
houdahs; and gardens, shaded and perfumed by all the most splendid trees
and sweetest flowers of Asia: such were the principal features of Delhi.
Our traveller did not at first relish the Mussulman music, its loud
ear-piercing tones being too powerful for his tympanum. By degrees,
however, their hautboys of a fathom and a half in length, and their
cymbals of copper or iron not less than a fathom in circumference, which
appeared to make the very earth tremble with their tremendous clangour,
became familiar to his ear, and seemed delightfully musical, particularly
at night, when he lay awake in his lofty bedchamber, and heard their
loud symphonies from a distance. In a range of turrets within the
palace, before which this martial music was daily heard, was situated
the harem, or seraglio, as it was termed by Europeans in those days.
This mysterious part of the palace Bernier traversed but did not see,
having been called in to prescribe for a great lady of the court, but
conducted by a eunuch blindfold, or with a cashmere shawl thrown over
his head and descending to his feet, through the various chambers and
passages. He learned, however, from the eunuchs, that the harem contained
very noble apartments, each of which was furnished with its reservoir
of running water, and opened upon gardens, with covered walks, dusky
bowers, grottoes, streams, fountains, and immense caves, into which the
ladies retired during the heat of the day. Thus the inconveniences of the
climate were never felt in this secluded paradise. The most delightful
portion of this part of the palace, according to the eunuchs, was a small
tower covered with plates of gold, and glittering on the inside with
azure, gold, mirrors, and the richest and most exquisite pictures. It
overlooked the Jumna, and thence the ladies could enjoy a fine prospect
and the coolest air.
Though by no means liable to be dazzled by pompous exhibitions, Bernier
could not refuse his admiration to the Great Mogul’s hall of audience,
and the splendour of the peacock throne. In fact, the appearance of
this hall upon one of the principal Mohammedan festivals he considered
one of the most remarkable things which he saw during his travels. Upon
entering the spacious and lofty saloon the first object which met the
eye was the emperor himself seated upon his throne, and attired in the
most magnificent and gorgeous style of the East. His robe was composed
of white satin with small flowers, relieved by a rich border of silk and
gold; his turban, of stiff cloth of gold, was adorned with an aigrette,
the stem of which was crusted with diamonds of prodigious size and
value, in the midst of which a large oriental topaz of unparalleled
beauty blazed like a mimic sun; while a string of large pearls fell from
his neck upon his bosom, like the beads of a devotee. The throne was
supported upon six large feet of massive gold, set with rubies, emeralds,
and diamonds. But its principal ornament were two peacocks, whose
feathers were imitated by a crust of pearls and jewels. The real value
of this throne could not be exactly ascertained, but it was estimated
at four azores, or forty millions of rupees.—At the foot of the throne
stood all the numerous emirs or princes of the court, magnificently
apparelled, with a canopy of brocade with golden fringe overhead, and all
round a balustrade of massive silver, to separate them from the crowd of
ordinary mortals, who took their station without. The whole riches of the
empire seemed collected there in one heap, for the purpose of dazzling
and astonishing the crowd. The pillars of the saloon were hung round with
brocade with a gold ground, and the whole of the end near the throne was
shaded with canopies of flowered satin, attached with silken cords and
nets of gold. Upon the floor immense silken carpets, of singular fineness
and beauty, were spread for the feet of the courtiers. In short, wherever
the eye could turn, the heart and secret thoughts of the assembly not
being visible, its glances alighted upon a blaze of grandeur, above,
around, below, until the aching sight would gladly have sought repose
among the serener and more soothing beauties of external nature.
In the several visits which Bernier made to Agra, the object which
principally attracted his attention was the celebrated taj, or tomb, of
Nourmahal, the favourite wife of Shah Jehan, which he considered far
more worthy than the pyramids to be enumerated among the wonders of the
world. Leaving the city and proceeding towards the east, through a long,
broad street, running between lofty garden-walls and fine new houses, he
entered the imperial gardens. Here numerous structures, varying in their
forms, yet all possessing their peculiar beauties, courted observation;
but the enormous dome of the mausoleum, rising like the moon “inter
minora sidera,” immediately absorbed all his attention. To the right and
left dim covered walks and parterres of flowers yielded soft glimpses of
shadow and a breeze of perfume as he moved along. At length he arrived in
front of the building. In the centre rose a vast dome, which, together
with the tall, slender minarets on both sides of it, was supported by a
range of beautiful arches, partly closed up by a wall, and partly open.
The façade of the structure consisted entirely of marble, white like
alabaster; and in the centre of the closed arches were tablets of the
same material, thickly inlaid with verses from the Koran, wrought in
black marble. The interior of the dome was bordered, like the exterior,
with white marble, thickly inlaid with jasper, cornelian, and lapis
lazuli, delicately disposed in the form of flowers and other beautiful
objects. The pavement was formed of alternate squares of black and white
marble, disposed with singular art, and producing the finest effect
imaginable upon the eye.
In the month of December, 1663, Aurungzebe, attended by his whole
court, and an army of ten thousand foot and thirty-five thousand horse,
undertook a journey into Cashmere, in the pleasures of which, through the
favour of Danekmend Khan, Bernier was allowed to partake. Keeping as long
as possible near the banks of the Jumna, in order to enjoy by the way
the pleasures of the chase, and the salubrious waters of the river, the
army proceeded towards its place of destination by the way of Lahere. The
style of travelling adopted by the Great Mogul was perfectly unique. Two
sets of tents numerous and spacious enough to contain the whole of the
imperial retinue were provided, and of these one set was sent forward,
previous to the emperor’s setting out, to the spot marked out for the
first halting-place. Here the ground was levelled by the pioneers,
the tents pitched, and every convenience provided which the luxurious
effeminacy of oriental courtiers, and more particularly of the fretful
and capricious inmates of the harem, could require. When the emperor
arrived at his camp, a fresh body of pioneers and labourers proceeded
with the second set of tents, which they pitched and prepared in like
manner; and thus a kind of city, with all its luxuries and conveniences,
perpetually moved in advance of the prince, and became stationary
whenever and wherever he required it.
During the journey Aurungzebe generally travelled in a species of small
turret or houdah, mounted on the back of an elephant. In fine weather
this houdah was open on all sides, that the inmate might enjoy the cool
breeze from whatever quarter of the heavens it might blow; but when
storms or showers came on, he closed his casements, and reclined upon his
couch, defended from all the inclemencies of the weather as completely
as in the apartments of his palace. Ranchenara Begum, the sister of the
emperor, and the other great ladies of the harem, travelled in the same
kind of moving palace, mounted upon camels or elephants, and presented a
spectacle which Bernier delighted to contemplate. In general the blinds
or casements of these splendid little mansions of gold, scarlet, and
azure, were closed, to preserve the charms of those within from “Phœbus’
amorous kisses,” or the profane gaze of the vulgar; but once, as the
gorgeous cavalcade moved along, our traveller caught a glimpse of the
interior of Ranchenara’s mikdembar, and beheld the princess reclined
within, while a little female slave fanned away the dust and flies
from her face with a bunch of peacock’s feathers. A train of fifty or
sixty elephants similarly, though less splendidly, appointed, moving
along with grave, solemn pace, surrounded by so vast a retinue as that
which now accompanied the court, appeared in the eyes of our traveller
to possess something truly royal in its aspect, and with the beauteous
goddesses which the fancy placed within, seem, in spite of his affected
philosophical indifference, to have delighted him in a very extraordinary
manner. True philosophy, however, would have admired the show, while it
condemned the extravagance, and despised the pride and effeminacy which
produced it.
In this manner the court proceeded through Lahore and the plains of the
Pundjâb towards Cashmere; but as their motions were slow, they were
overtaken in those burning hollows which condensed and reflected back
the rays of the sun like a vast burning-glass, by the heats of summer,
which are there little less intense than on the shores of the Persian
Gulf. No sooner had the sun appeared above the horizon than the heat
became insupportable. Not a cloud stained the firmament; not a breath
of air stood upon the earth. Every herb was scorched to cinders; and
throughout the wide horizon nothing appeared but an interminable plain of
dust below, and above a brazen or coppery sky, glowing like the mouth of
a furnace. The horses, languid and worn out, could scarcely drag their
limbs along; the very Hindoos themselves, who seem designed to revel in
sunshine, began to droop, and our traveller, who had braved the climate
of Egypt and the Arabian deserts, writing from the camp, on the tenth day
of their march from Lahore, exclaims, “My whole face, hands, and feet are
flayed, and my whole body is covered with small red pustules which prick
like needles. Yesterday, one of our horsemen, who happened to have no
tent, was found dead at the foot of a tree, which he had grasped in his
last agonies. I doubt whether I shall be able to hold out till night. All
my hopes rest upon a little curds which I steep in water, and on a little
sugar, with four or five lemons. The very ink is dried up at the point of
my pen, and the pen itself drops from my hand. Adieu.”
His frame, however, was much tougher than he imagined; and he continued
to proceed with the rest, till having crossed the Chenâb, one of the five
rivers, they ascended Mount Bember, and found themselves in Cashmere,
the Tempé of Hindostan. The traditions of the Hindoos respecting the
formation of this beautiful valley greatly resemble those which prevailed
among the Greeks about that of Thessaly, both being said to have been
originally a lake enclosed by lofty mountains, which having, been rent
by the agency of earthquakes, or bored by human industry, suffered the
waters to escape. Whatever was its origin, the Indian Tempé, though
vaunted by less renowned poets, is no way inferior in fertility or beauty
to the Thessalian. Fields clothed with eternal green, and sprinkled thick
with violets, roses, narcissuses, and other delicate or fragrant flowers,
which here grow wild, meet the eye on all sides; while, to divide or
diversify them, a number of small streams of crystal purity, and several
lakes of various dimensions, glide or sparkle in the foreground of the
landscape. On all sides round arise a range of low green hills, dotted
with trees, and affording a delicious herbage to the gazelle and other
graminivorous animals; while the pinnacles of the Himalaya, pointed,
jagged, and broken into a thousand fantastic forms, rear their snowy
heads behind, and pierce beyond the clouds. From these unscaleable
heights, amid which the imagination of the Hindoo has placed his heaven,
ever bright and luminous, innumerable small rivulets descend to the
valley; and after rushing in slender cataracts over projecting rocks,
and peopling the upland with noise and foam, submit to the direction of
the husbandman, and spread themselves in artificial inundations over the
fields and gardens below. These numerous mountain-torrents, which unite
into one stream before they issue from the valley, may be regarded as
the sources of the Jylum or Hydaspes, one of the mightiest rivers of
Hindostan.
The beauty and fertility of Cashmere are equalled by the mildness
and salubrity of the climate. Here the southern slopes of the hills
are clothed with the fruits and flowers of Hindostan; but pass the
summit, and you find upon the opposite side the productions of the
temperate zone, and the features of a European landscape. The fancy of
Bernier, escaping from the curb of his philosophy, ran riot among these
hills, which, with their cows, their goats, their gazelles, and their
innumerable bees, might, like the promised land, be said to flow with
milk and honey.
The inhabitants of this terrestrial paradise, who were as beautiful as
their climate, possessed the reputation of being superior in genius and
industry to the rest of the Hindoos. The arts and sciences flourished
among them; and their manufactures of palanquins, bedsteads, coffers,
cabinets, spoons, and inlaid work, were renowned throughout the East.
But the fabric which tended most powerfully to diffuse their reputation
for ingenuity were their shawls, those soft and exquisite articles of
dress which, from that day to this, have enjoyed the patronage of the
fair throughout the world. In the days of Bernier these shawls were
comparatively little known in Europe; yet his account of them, though
highly accurate as far as it goes, is brief and rather unsatisfactory.
During the three or four months which he spent in this beautiful country
he made several excursions to the surrounding mountains, where, amid
the wildest and most majestic scenery, he beheld with wonder, he tells
us, the natural succession of generation and decay. At the bottom of
many precipitous abysses, where man’s foot had never descended, he saw
hundreds of enormous trunks, hurled down by time, and heaped upon each
other in decay; while at their foot, or between their crumbling branches,
young ones were shooting up and flourishing. Some of the trees were
scorched and burnt, either blasted by the thunderbolt, or, according to
the traditions of the peasantry, set on fire in the heat of summer by
rubbing against each other, when agitated by fierce burning winds.
The court, having visited Cashmere from motives of pleasure, were
determined to taste every species of it which the country could supply;
the wild and sublime, which must be sought with toil and difficulty, as
well as those more ordinary ones which lay strewed like flowers upon the
earth. The emperor accordingly, or at least his harem, ascended the lower
range of hills, to enjoy the prospect of abyss and precipice, impending
woods, dusky and horrible, and streams rushing forth from their dark
wombs, and leaping with thundering and impetuous fury over cliffs of
prodigious elevation. One of these small cataracts appeared to Bernier
the most perfect thing of the kind in the world; and Jehangheer, who
passed many years in Cashmere, had caused a neighbouring rock, from which
it could be contemplated to most advantage, to be levelled, in order to
behold it at his ease. Here a kind of theatre was raised by Aurungzebe,
for the accommodation of his court; and there they sat, viewing with
wondering delight this sublime work of Nature, surpassing in grandeur,
and by the emotions to which it gave birth, all the wonders of man’s
hand. In this instance the stream was beheld at a considerable distance
rolling along its weight of waters down the slope of the mountain,
through a sombre channel overhung with trees. Arriving at the edge of a
rock, the whole stream projected itself forward, and curving round, like
the neck of a war-horse, in its descent plunged into the gulf below with
deafening and incessant thunder.
An accident which occurred during these imperial excursions threw a damp
over their merriment. In ascending the Peer Punjal, the loftiest mountain
of the southern chain, from whose summit the eye commands an extensive
prospect of Cashmere, one of the foremost elephants was seized with
terror, occasioned, according to the Hindoos, by the length and steepness
of the acclivity. This beast was one of those upon which the ladies
of the harem were mounted; and fifteen others, employed in the same
service, followed. The moment his courage failed him he began to reel
backwards; and striking against the animal which immediately succeeded,
forced him also to retreat. Thus the shock, communicated from the first
to the second, and from the second to the third, in an instant threw
back the whole fifteen; and being upon the giddy edge of a precipice, no
exertion of their drivers or of the bystanders could check their fall;
and down they rolled over the rocks into the abyss, with the ladies upon
their backs. This accident threw the whole army into consternation. A
general halt took place. The most adventurous immediately crept down the
cliffs, and were followed by the rest, to aid such as should have escaped
with life, and remove the bodies of the dead. Here, to their great
astonishment, they found that, by the mercy of Providence, only three or
four of the ladies had been killed; but the elephants, which, when they
sink under their prodigious burdens even on a smooth road, never rise
again, had all been mortally wounded by the fall, and could by no means
be lifted from the spot. Even two days afterward, however, when Bernier
again visited the place, he observed some of the poor animals moving
their trunks.
On returning to Delhi from Cashmere, our traveller appears to have
remained quiet for some time, pursuing his researches amid the mazes
of the atomical philosophy; for he was a disciple of Democritus, and
enjoying those “noctes cœnæque deorum” which seem to have constituted one
of the principal pleasures of his friend Danekmend Khan. His influence
with this chief he exerted for the benefit of others no less than for
his own. Numerous were the individuals who owed to his interference
or recommendation their admission into the service of the khan, or
the speedy termination of their affairs at court, where Danekmend,
who possessed the especial favour of the emperor, could almost always
procure an audience, or give success to a petition. These kind offices
were uniformly repaid with abundant flattery, if not with gratitude; and
the skilful practitioners invariably discharged a portion of the debt
beforehand. Putting on a grave face—a possession of infinite value in the
East—every person who had need of his services assured him at the outset
of the affair that he was the Aristotalis, the Bocrate, and the Abousina
Ulzaman (that is, the Aristotle, the Hippocrates, and the Avicenna) of
the age. It was in vain that he disavowed all claim to such immediate
honours; they persisted in their assertions; argued down his modesty; and
eternally renewing the charge, compelled him to acquiesce, and consent to
allow all the glorious attributes of those illustrious men to be centred
in his own person. A Brahmin whom he recommended to the khan outdid
them all; for, upon his first introduction to his master, after having
compared him to the greatest kings and conquerors that ever reigned, he
concluded by gravely observing, “My lord, whenever you put your foot
in the stirrup, and ride abroad accompanied by your cavalry, the earth
trembles beneath your feet, the eight elephants which support it not
being able to endure so great an exertion!” Upon this, Bernier, who
could no longer restrain his disposition to laugh, remarked to the khan,
that since this was the case, it was advisable that he should ride as
seldom as possible on horseback, in order to prevent those earthquakes,
which might, perhaps, occasion much mischief. “You are perfectly right,”
replied Danekmend, with a smile, “and it is for that very reason that I
generally go abroad in a palanquin!”
In the year 1666, while Bernier was still at Delhi, there happened an
eclipse of the sun, which was attended by so many curious circumstances
that, should he have lived for ages, he declares it never could have been
obliterated from his memory. A little before the obscuration commenced,
he ascended to the roof of his house, which, standing on the margin of
the Jumna, commanded a full view of the stream, and of the surrounding
plain. Both sides of the river for nearly a league were covered with
Hindoos of both sexes, standing up to the waist in the water, anxiously
awaiting for the commencement of the phenomenon, in order to plunge into
the river and bathe their bodies at the auspicious moment. The children,
both male and female, were as naked as at the moment of their birth—the
women wore a single covering of muslin—the men a slight girdle, or
cummerbund, about the waist. The rajahs, nobles, and rich merchants,
however, who, for the most part, had crossed the river with their
families, had fixed up certain screens in the water, which enabled them
to bathe unseen. Presently the dusky body of the moon began to obscure
a portion of the burning disk of the superior planet, and in a moment a
tremendous shout arose from the multitude, who then plunged several times
into the stream, muttering during the intervals an abundance of prayers,
raising their eyes and their hands towards the sun, sprinkling water in
the air, bowing the head, and practising a thousand gesticulations. These
ceremonies continued to the end of the eclipse, when, throwing pieces of
money far into the stream, putting on new garments, some leaving the old
ones, besides the gifts which in common with all others they bestowed,
for the Brahmins, others retaining them, the whole multitude dispersed.
The Hindoos, however, were not singular in the superstitious feelings
with which they regarded eclipses of the sun. Twelve years previous
Bernier had witnessed the effects which one of these phenomena produced
in his own country, where the madness exhibited itself in the guise of
fear. Astrologers, possessing the confidence of the Fates, had predicted
that the end of the world, that unfailing bugbear of the middle age, was
now to take place, and the terrified rabble of all ranks, conscious of
guilt, or oppressed by gloomy fanaticism, immediately crept, like rats,
into their cellars, or dark closets, as if God could not have beheld them
there; or else rushed headlong to the churches, with a piety begotten by
apprehension. Others, who only anticipated some malignant and perilous
influence, swallowed drugs, which were vaunted by their inventors as
sovereign remedies against the eclipse disease! Thus it appears that the
superstition of the Hindoos was the less despicable of the two.
During his long residence in India our traveller twice visited Bengal.
Of his first journey into that province the date is unknown, but his
second visit took place in 1667, the year in which he finally quitted the
country. He seems, on this occasion, to have approached the place by sea,
for we first find him coasting along the Sunderbund in a small native
bark, with seven rowers, in which he ascended by one of the western
branches of the Ganges to the town of Hoogly. The beauty of this immense
delta, divided into innumerable islands by the various arms of the
stream, and covered by a vegetation luxuriant even to rankness, delighted
him exceedingly. Even then, however, many of these romantic isles had
been deserted, owing principally to the dread of the pirates who infested
the coast; and as in India the spots which cultivation abandons quickly
become the abode of pestilential miasmata, which thenceforward forbid the
residence of man, no one now ventured to disturb the tigers and their
prey, which had taken possession of the soil. It was here that for the
third time in his life he enjoyed the sight of that rare phenomenon, a
lunar rainbow. He had caused his boat to be fastened to the branch of a
tree, as far as possible from the shore, through dread of the tigers,
and was himself keeping watch. The moon, then near its full, was shining
serenely in the western sky, when, turning his eyes towards the opposite
quarter, he beheld a pale, bright arch, spanning the earth, and looking
like a phantom of the glorious bow which, impregnated with the rich light
of the sun, gladdens the eye with its brilliant colours by day. Next
night the phenomenon was repeated; and on the fourth evening another
spectacle, now familiar to most readers by description, delighted our
traveller and his boat’s crew. The woods on both sides of the stream
seemed suddenly to be illuminated by a shower of fire, and glowed as
if they had been clothed with leaves of moving flames. There was not a
breath of wind stirring, and the heat was intense. This added to the
effect of the scene; for as the countless little fires streamed hither
and thither in columns, or separated, and fell like drops of rain, or
rose thick like the sparks of a furnace, the two Portuguese pilots whom
our traveller had taken on board, imagined they were so many demons. To
add to the effect of this exhibition of fireflies, for, as the reader
will have foreseen, it was they who were the actors, the swampy soil
sent up a number of those earthly meteors which often glide over large
morasses, some in the form of globes, which rose and fell slowly, like
enormous rockets, while others assumed the shape of a tree of fire.
From Bengal our traveller proceeded along the Coromandel coast to
Masulipatam, and having visited the kingdoms of Golconda and Bejapore,
quitted Hindostan, after a residence of twelve years, and returned by way
of Persia and Mesopotamia to Europe. The exact date of his arrival in
France I have not been able to discover, but it must have been somewhere
in the latter end of the year 1669, or in the beginning of 1670; for
the first two volumes of his “History of the Revolutions of the Mogul
Empire,” which would require some time to prepare them for the press,
were published in the course of that year. The third and fourth volumes
appeared in 1671, and so great was the reputation they acquired, that
they obtained for our traveller the surname of “The Mogul.” These works,
which have frequently been reprinted under the title of “The Travels of
M. François Bernier, containing the Description of the Mogul Empire, of
Hindostan, of the Kingdom of Cashmere, &c.,” were immediately translated
into English, and appear to have been the means of introducing their
author to the most distinguished individuals of his time. Among those
most distinguished by his friendship were Ninon de l’Enclos, Madame de la
Sabliere, St. Evremont, and Chapelle, whose _Eloge_ he composed. To many
of these his speculative opinions, which were any thing but orthodox,
may have rendered him agreeable; but to Ninon, his handsome person, easy
manners, and fascinating conversation, which he knew how to enliven with
a thousand interesting anecdotes, must have proved by far his greatest
recommendation. By St. Evremont he was called “the handsome philosopher;”
and in a letter to Ninon, this same writer observes, “Speaking of the
mortification of the senses one day, to M. Bernier, he replied, ‘I
will tell you a secret which I would not willingly reveal to Madame de
la Sabliere or to Ninon, though it contains an important truth; it is
this—the abstaining from pleasure is itself a crime.’ I was surprised,”
adds St. Evremont, “by the novelty of the system.” Upon this M. Walkenaer
shrewdly observes, that this system could have possessed but very little
novelty for Mademoiselle de l’Enclos; and he might have added that the
surprise of the writer of the letter must either have been affected, or
else betrayed a very slight acquaintance with the history of philosophy.
The other works of Bernier, which have been suffered to sink into much
greater neglect than they perhaps deserve, are,—1. “An Abridgment of
the Philosophy of Gassendi:” in which, according to Buhl, the acute and
learned historian of Modern Philosophy, he not only exhibited the talents
of an able and intelligent abbreviator, but, moreover, afforded numerous
proofs of a capacity to philosophize for himself. On several important
points he differed from his friend, with whom, previous to his travels,
he had lived during many years on terms of the strictest intimacy, and
who died shortly after his departure from France. 2. “A Memoir upon the
Quietism of India,” which appeared in the “Histoire des Ouvrages des
Savans,” for September, 1668. 3. “Extract of various Pieces sent as
Presents to Madame de la Sabliere.” 4. “Eloge of Chapelle.” 5. “Decree
of the Grand Council of Parnassus for the Support of the Philosophy
of Aristotle.” 6. “Illustration of the Work of Father Valois, on the
Philosophy of Descartes,” published by Boyle. 7. “A Treatise on Free
Will.”
The travels of Bernier, which enjoy a vast reputation among the learned,
have never, perhaps, been popular, and can never become so, unless the
various letters and treatises of which the work is composed be properly
arranged, and the whole illustrated with copious notes. As an acute
observer of manners, however, he has seldom been surpassed. His history
of the revolutions of the Mogul empire entitles him to a high rank among
the historians of India; and his description of Cashmere, though brief,
is perhaps the best which has hitherto been given of that beautiful
country. In his private character he appears to have been generous,
humane, and amiable, constant in his friendship, and capable, as may be
inferred from the singular affection entertained for him by Gassendi and
Danekmend Khan, of inspiring a lasting and powerful attachment. Still,
his inclination for the dull, unimaginative, unspiritual philosophy of
Epicurus bespeaks but little enthusiasm or poetical fervour of mind; and
this feature in his intellectual character may account for the inferior
degree of romance with which we contemplate his adventures.