Evils attending a residence in India.--Frogs.--Flies.--Blains.--
Musquitoes.--The White Ant.--The Red Ant.--Their destructive
habits.--A Tarantula.--Black Ants.--Locusts.--Superstition of the
Natives upon their appearance.--The Tufaun, or Haundhie
(tempest).--The rainy season.--Thunder and lightning.--Meteors.--
Earthquakes.--A city ruined by them.--Reverence of the Mussulmauns
for saints.--Prickly heat.--Cholera Morbus.--Mode of
Treatment.--Temperance the best remedy.--Recipe.
A residence in India, productive as it may be (to many) of pecuniary
benefits, presents, however, a few inconveniences to Europeans independent
of climate,--which, in the absence of more severe trials, frequently
become a source of disquiet, until habit has reconciled, or reflection
disposed the mind to receive the mixture of evil and good which is the
common lot of man in every situation of life. I might moralise on the duty
of intelligent beings suffering patiently those trials which human
ingenuity cannot avert, even if this world's happiness were the only
advantage to be gained; but when we reflect on the account we have to give
hereafter, for every thought, word, or action, I am induced to believe,
the well-regulated mind must view with dismay a retrospect of the past
murmurings of which it has been guilty. But I must bring into view the
trials of patience which our countrymen meet while in India, to those who
have neither witnessed nor [Transcriber's note: illegible] them; many of
them present slight, but living, op[Transcriber's note: illegible] those
evils with which the Egyptians were visited for their impiety to Heaven.
Frogs, for instance, harmless as these creatures are in their nature,
occasion no slight inconvenience to the inhabitants of India. They enter
their house in great numbers and, without much care, would make their way
to the beds, as they do to the chambers; the croaking during the rainy
season is almost deafening, particularly towards the evening and during
the night. Before the morning has well dawned, these creatures creep into
every open doorway, and throughout the day secrete themselves under the
edges of mattings and carpets, to the annoyance of those who have an
antipathy to these unsightly looking creatures.
The myriads of flies which fill the rooms, and try the patience of every
observer of nice order in an English establishment, may bear some likeness
to the plague which was inflicted on Pharaoh and his people, as a
punishment for their hardness of heart. The flies of India have a property
not common to those of Europe, but very similar to the green fly of Spain:
when bruised, they will raise a blister on the skin, and, I am told, are
frequently made use of by medical gentlemen as a substitute for the
Spanish fly.[1]
If but one wing or leg of a fly is by any accident dropped into the food
of an individual, and swallowed, the consequence is an immediate
irritation of the stomach, answering the purpose of a powerful emetic. At
meals the flies are a pest, which most people say they abhor, knowing the
consequences of an unlucky admission into the stomach of the smallest
particle of the insect. Their numbers exceed all calculation; the table is
actually darkened by the myriads, particularly in the season of the
periodical rains. The Natives of India use muslin curtains suspended from
the ceiling of their hall at meal times, which are made very full and long,
so as to enclose the whole dinner party and exclude their tormentors.
The biles or blains, which all classes of people in India are subject to,
may be counted as amongst the catalogue of Pharaoh's plagues. The most
healthy and the most delicate, whether Europeans or Natives, are equally
liable to be visited by these eruptions, which are of a painful and
tedious nature. The causes inducing these biles no one, as yet, I believe,
has been able to discover, and therefore a preventive has not been found.
I have known people who have suffered every year from these attacks, with
scarce a day's intermission during the hot weather.[2]
The musquitoes, a species of gnat, tries the patience of the public in no
very measured degree; their malignant sting is painful, and their attacks
incessant; against which there is no remedy but patience, and a good gauze
curtain to the beds. Without some such barrier, foreigners could hardly
exist; certainly they never could enjoy a night's repose. Even the mere
buzzing of musquitoes is a source of much annoyance to Europeans: I have
heard many declare the bite was not half so distressing as the sound. The
Natives, both male and female, habitually wrap themselves up so entirely
in their chuddah[3] (sheet) that they escape from these voracious insects,
whose sounds are so familiar to them that it may be presumed they lull to,
rather than disturb their sleep.
The white ant is a cruel destroyer of goods: where it has once made its
domicile, a real misfortune may be considered to have visited the house.
They are the most destructive little insects in the world doing as much
injury in one hour as a man might labour through a long life to redeem.
These ants, it would seem, have no small share of animosity to ladies'
finery, for many a wardrobe have they demolished, well filled with
valuable dresses and millinery, before their vicinity has even been
suspected, or their traces discovered. They destroy beams in the roofs of
houses, chests of valuable papers, carpets, mats, and furniture, with a
dispatch which renders them the most formidable of enemies, although to
appearance but a mean little insect.
There is one season of the year when they take flight, having four
beautiful transparent wings; this occurs during the periodical rains, when
they are attracted by the lights of the houses, which they enter in
countless numbers, filling the tables, and whilst flitting before the
lights disencumber themselves of their wings. They then become, to
appearance, a fat maggot, and make their way to the floors and walls,
where it is supposed they secrete themselves for a season, and are
increasing in numbers whilst in this stage of existence. At the period of
their migration in search of food, they will devour any perishable
materials within their reach. It is probable, however, that they first
send out scouts to discover food for the family, for the traces of white
ants are discovered by a sort of clay-covered passage, formed as they
proceed on their march in almost a direct line, which often extends a
great distance from their nest.
To mark the economy of ants has sometimes formed a part of my amusements
in Hindoostaun.[4] I find they all have wings at certain seasons of the
year; and more industrious little creatures cannot exist than the small
red ants, which are so abundant in India. I have watched them at their
labours for hours without tiring; they are so small that from eight to
twelve in number labour with great difficulty to convey a grain of wheat
or barley; yet these are not more than half the size of a grain of English
wheat. I have known them to carry one of these grains to their nest at a
distance of from six hundred to a thousand yards; they travel in two
distinct lines over rough or smooth ground, as it may happen, even up and
down steps, at one regular pace. The returning unladen ants invariably
salute the burthened ones, who are making their way to the general
storehouse; but it is done so promptly that the line is neither broken nor
their progress impeded by the salutation.
I was surprised one morning in my breakfast parlour to discover something
moving slowly up the wall; on approaching near to examine what it was, I
discovered a dead wasp, which the khidmutghar[5] (footman) had destroyed
with his chowrie during breakfast, and which, falling on the floor, had
become the prize of my little friends (a vast multitude), who were
labouring with their tiny strength to convey it to their nest in the
ceiling. The weight was either too great, or they had quarrelled over the
burthen,--I know not which,--but the wasp fell to the ground when they had
made more than half the journey of the wall; the courageous little
creatures, however, were nothing daunted, they resumed their labour, and
before evening their prize was safely housed.
These ants are particularly fond of animal food. I once caught a tarantula;
it was evening, and I wished to examine it by daylight. I placed it for
this purpose in a recess of the wall, under a tumbler, leaving just
breathing room. In the morning I went to examine my curiosity, when to my
surprise it was dead and swarming with red ants, who had been its
destroyers, and were busily engaged in making a feast on the (to them)
huge carcass of the tarantula.
These small creatures often prove a great annoyance by their nocturnal
visits to the beds of individuals, unless the precaution be taken of
having brass vessels, filled with water, to each of the bed-feet; the only
method of effectually preventing their approach to the beds. I was once
much annoyed by a visit from these bold insects, when reclining on a couch
during the extreme heat of the day. I awoke by an uneasy sensation from
their bite or sting about my ears and face, and found they had assembled
by millions on my head; the bath was my immediate resource. The Natives
tell me these little pests will feed on the human body if they are not
disturbed: when any one is sick there is always great anxiety to keep them
away.
The large black ant is also an enemy to man; its sharp pincers inflict
wounds of no trifling consequence; it is much larger than the common fly,
has long legs, is swift of foot, and feeds chiefly on animal substances. I
fancy all the ant species are more or less carnivorous, but strictly
epicurean in their choice of food, avoiding tainted or decomposed
substances with the nicest discrimination. Sweetmeats are alluring to them;
there is also some difficulty in keeping them from jars of sugar or
preserves; and when swallowed in food, are the cause of much personal
inconvenience.
I have often witnessed the Hindoos, male and female, depositing small
portions of sugar near ants' nests, as acts of charity to commence the day
with;[6] and it is the common opinion with the Natives generally, that
wherever the red ants colonize prosperity attends the owners of that house.
They destroy the white ants, though the difference in their size is as a
grain of sand to a barley-corn; and on that account only may be viewed
rather as friends than enemies to man, provided by the same Divine source
from whence all other benefits proceed.
The locusts, so familiar by name to the readers of Scripture, are here
seen to advantage in their occasional visits. I had, however, been some
years in India before I was gratified by the sight of these wonderful
insects; not because of their rarity, as I had frequently heard of their
appearance and ravages, but not immediately in the place where I was
residing, until the year 1825, which the following memorandum made at the
time will describe.
On the third of July, between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, I
observed a dusky brown cloud bordering the Eastern horizon, at the
distance of about four miles from my house, which stands on an elevated
situation; the colour was so unusual that I resolved on inquiring from my
oracle, Meer Hadjee Shaah, to whom I generally applied for elucidations of
the remarkable, what such an appearance portended. He informed me it was a
flight of locusts.
I had long felt anxious to witness those insects, that had been the food
of St. John in the Desert, and which are so familiar by name from their
frequent mention in Scripture; and now that I was about to be gratified, I
am not ashamed to confess my heart bounded with delight, yet with an
occasional feeling of sympathy for the poor people, whose property would
probably become the prey of this devouring cloud of insects before the
morning's dawn. Long before they had time to advance, I was seated in an
open space in the shade of my house to watch them more minutely. The first
sound I could distinguish was as the gentlest breeze, increasing as the
living cloud approached; and as they moved over my head, the sound was
like the rustling of the wind through the foliage of many pepul-trees.[7]
It was with a feeling of gratitude that I mentally thanked God at the time
that they were a stingless body of insects, and that I could look on them
without the slightest apprehension of injury. Had this wondrous cloud of
insects been the promised locust described in the Apocalypse, which shall
follow the fifth angel's trumpet; had they been hornets, wasps, or even
the little venomous musquito, I had not then dared to retain my position
to watch with eager eyes the progress of this insect family as they
advanced, spreading for miles on every side with something approaching the
sublime, and presenting a most imposing spectacle. So steady and orderly
was their pace, having neither confusion nor disorder in their line of
march through the air, that I could not help comparing them to the
well-trained horses of the English cavalry.[8] 'Who gave them this order
in their flight?' was in my heart and on my tongue.
I think the main body of this army of locusts must have occupied thirty
minutes in passing over my head, but my attention was too deeply engrossed
to afford me time to consult my time-piece. Stragglers there were many,
separated from the flight by the noises made by the servants and people to
deter them from settling; some were caught, and, no doubt, converted into
currie for a Mussulmaun's meal. They say it is no common delicacy, and is
ranked among the allowed animal food.
The Natives anticipate earthquakes after the visitation or appearance of
locusts. They are said to generate in mountains, but I cannot find any one
here able to give me an authentic account of their natural history.
On the 18th of September, 1825, another flight of these wonderful insects
passed over my house in exactly a contrary direction from those which
appeared in July, viz. from the West towards the East. The idea struck me
that they might be the same swarm, returning after fulfilling the object
of their visit to the West: but I have no authority on which to ground my
supposition. The Natives have never made natural history even an amusement,
much less a study, although their habits are purely those of Nature; they
know the property of most herbs, roots, and flowers, which they cultivate,
not for their beauty, but for the benefit they render to man and beast.[9]
I could not learn that the flight had rested anywhere near Futtyghur, at
which place I was then living. They are of all creatures the most
destructive to vegetation, licking with their rough tongue the blades of
grass, the leaves of trees, and green herbage of all kinds. Wherever they
settle for the night, vegetation is completely destroyed; and a day of
mournful consequences is sure to follow their appearance in the poor
farmer's fields of green com.
But that which bears the most awful resemblance to the visitations of God's
wrath on Pharaoh and the Egyptians, is, I think, the frightful storm of
wind which brings thick darkness over the earth at noonday, and which
often occurs from the Tufaun or Haundhie,[10] as it is called by the
Natives. Its approach is first discerned by dark columns of yellow clouds,
bordering the horizon; the alarm is instantly given by the Natives, who
hasten to put out the fires in the kitchens, and close the doors and
windows in European houses, or with the Natives to let down the purdahs.
No sound that can be conceived by persons who have not witnessed this
phenomenon of Nature, is capable of conveying an idea of the tempest. In a
few minutes total darkness is produced by the thick cloud of dust; and the
tremendous rushing wind carries the fine sand, which produces the darkness,
through every cranny and crevice to all parts of the house; so that in the
best secured rooms every article of furniture is covered with sand, and
the room filled as with a dense fog: the person, dresses, furniture, and
the food (if at meal times), are all of one dusky colour; and though
candles are lighted to lessen the horror of the darkness, they only tend
to make the scene of confusion more visible.
Fortunately the tempest is not of very long continuance. I have never
known it to last more than half an hour; yet in that time how much might
have been destroyed of life and property, but for the interposing care of
Divine mercy, whose gracious Providence over the works of His hand is seen
in such seasons as these! The sound of thunder is hailed as a messenger of
peace; the Natives are then aware that the fury of the tempest is spent,
as a few drops of rain indicate a speedy termination; and when it has
subsided they run to see what damage has been done to the premises without.
It often occurs, that trees are torn up by their roots, the thatched
houses and huts unroofed, and, if due care has not been taken to quench
the fires in time, huts and bungalows are frequently found burnt, by the
sparks conveyed in the dense clouds of sand which pass with the rapidity
of lightning.
These tufauns occur generally in April, May, and June, before the
commencement of the periodical rains. I shall never forget the awe I felt
upon witnessing the first after my arrival, nor the gratitude which filled
my heart when the light reappeared. The Natives on such occasions gave me
a bright example: they ceased not in the hour of peril to call on God for
safety and protection; and when refreshed by the return of calm, they
forgot not that their helper was the merciful Being in whom they had
trusted, and to whom they gave praise and thanksgiving.
The rainy season is at first hailed with a delight not easily to be
explained. The long continuance of the hot winds,--during which period
(three months or more) the sky is of the colour of copper, without the
shadow of a cloud to shield the earth from the fiery heat of the sun,
which has, in that time, scorched the earth and its inhabitants, stunted
vegetation, and even affected the very houses--renders the season when the
clouds pour out their welcome moisture a period which is looked forward to
with anxiety, and received with universal joy.
The smell of the earth after the first shower is more dearly loved than
the finest aromatics or the purest otta. Vegetation revives and human
nature exults in the favourable shower. As long as the novelty lasts, and
the benefit is sensibly felt, all seem to rejoice; but when the intervals
of clouds without rain occur, and send forth, as they separate, the bright
glare untempered by a passing breeze, poor weak human nature is too apt to
revolt against the season they cannot control, and sometimes a murmuring
voice is heard to cry out, 'Oh, when will the rainy season end!'
The thunder and lightning during the rainy season are beyond my ability to
describe. The loud peals of thunder roll for several minutes in succession,
magnificently, awfully grand. The lightning is proportionably vivid, yet
with fewer instances of conveying the electric fluid to houses than might
be expected when the combustible nature of the roofs is considered; the
chief of which are thatched with coarse dry grass. The casualties are by
no means frequent; and although trees surround most of the dwellings, yet
we seldom hear of any injury by lightning befalling them or their
habitations. Fiery meteors frequently fall; one within my recollection was
a superb phenomenon, and was visible for several seconds.
The shocks from earthquakes are frequently felt in the Upper Provinces of
India;[11] I was sensible of the motion on one occasion (rather a severe
one), for at least twenty seconds. The effect on me, however, was attended
with no inconvenience beyond a sensation of giddiness, as if on board ship
in a calm, when the vessel rolls from side to side.
At Kannoge, now little more than a village in population, between Cawnpore
and Futtyghur, I have rambled amongst the ruins of what formerly was an
immense city, but which was overturned by an earthquake some centuries
past. At the present period numerous relics of antiquity, as coins, jewels,
&c., are occasionally discovered, particularly after the rains, when the
torrents break down fragments of the ruins, and carry with the streams of
water the long-buried mementos of the riches of former generations to the
profit of the researching villagers, and to the gratification of curious
travellers, who generally prove willing purchasers.[12]
I propose giving in another letter the remarks I was led to make on
Kannoge during my pleasant sojourn in that retired situation, as it
possesses many singular antiquities and contains the ashes of many holy
Mussulmaun saints. The Mussulmauns, I may here observe, reverence the
memory of the good and the pious of all persuasions, but more particularly
those of their own faith. I have sketches of the lives and actions of many
of their sainted characters, received through the medium of my husband and
his most amiable father, that are both amusing and instructive; and
notwithstanding their particular faith be not in accordance with our own,
it is only an act of justice to admit, that they were men who lived in the
fear of God, and obeyed his commandments according to the instruction they
had received; and which, I hope, may prove agreeable to my readers when
they come to those pages I have set apart for such articles.
My catalogue of the trying circumstances attached to the comforts which
are to be met with in India are nearly brought to a close; but I must not
omit mentioning one 'blessing in disguise' which occurs annually, and
which affects Natives and Europeans indiscriminately, during the hot winds
and the rainy season: the name of this common visitor is, by Europeans,
called 'the prickly heat'; by Natives it is denominated 'Gurhum dahnie'[13]
(warm rash). It is a painful irritating rash, often spreading over the
whole body, mostly prevailing, however, wherever the clothes screen the
body from the power of the air; we rarely find it on the hands or face. I
suppose it to be induced by excessive perspiration, more particularly as
those persons who are deficient in this freedom of the pores, so essential
to healthiness, are not liable to be distressed by the rash; but then they
suffer more severely in their constitution by many other painful attacks
of fever, &c. So greatly is this rash esteemed the harbinger of good
health, that they say in India, 'the person so afflicted has received his
life-lease for the year'; and wherever it does not make its appearance, a
sort of apprehension is entertained of some latent illness.
Children suffer exceedingly from the irritation, which to scratch is
dangerous. In Native nurseries I have seen applications used of pounded
sandal-wood, camphor, and rose-water; with the peasantry a cooling earth,
called mooltanie mittee,[14] similar to our fuller's-earth, is moistened
with water and plastered over the back and stomach, or wherever the rash
mostly prevails; all this is but a temporary relief, for as soon as it is
dry, the irritation and burning are as bad as ever.
The best remedy I have met with, beyond patient endurance of the evil, is
bathing in rain-water, which soothes the violent sensations, and
eventually cools the body. Those people who indulge most in the good
things of this life are the greatest sufferers by this annual attack. The
benefits attending temperance are sure to bring an ample reward to the
possessors of that virtue under all circumstances, but in India more
particularly; I have invariably observed the most abstemious people are
the least subject to attacks from the prevailing complaints of the country,
whether fever or cholera, and when attacked the most likely subjects to
recover from those alarming disorders.
At this moment of anxious solicitude throughout Europe, when that awful
malady, the cholera, is spreading from city to city with rapid strides,
the observations I have been enabled to make by personal acquaintance with
afflicted subjects in India, may be acceptable to my readers; although I
heartily pray our Heavenly Father may in His goodness and mercy preserve
our country from that awful calamity, which has been so generally fatal in
other parts of the world.
The Natives of India designate cholera by the word 'Hyza', which with them
signifies 'the plague'. By this term, however, they do not mean that
direful disorder so well known to us by the same appellation; as, if I
except the Mussulmaun pilgrims, who have seen, felt, and described its
ravages on their journey to Mecca, that complaint seems to be unknown to
the present race of Native inhabitants of Hindoostaun. The word 'hyza', or
'plague', would be applied by them to all complaints of an epidemic or
contagious nature by which the population were suddenly attacked, and
death ensued. When the cholera first appeared in India (which I believe
was in 1817), it was considered by the Natives a new complaint.[15]
In all cases of irritation of the stomach, disordered bowels, or severe
feverish symptoms, the Mussulmaun doctors strongly urge the adoption of
'starving out the complaint'. This has become a law of Nature with all the
sensible part of the community; and when the cholera first made its
appearance in the Upper Provinces of Hindoostaun, those Natives who
observed their prescribed temperance were, when attacked, most generally
preserved from the fatal consequences of the disorder.
On the very first symptom of cholera occurring in a member of a Mussulmaun
family, a small portion of zahur morah[16] (derived from zahur, poison;
morah, to kill or destroy, and thence understood as an antidote to poison,
some specimens of which I have brought with me to England) moistened with
rosewater, is promptly administered, and, if necessary, repeated at short
intervals; due care being taken to prevent the patient from receiving
anything into the stomach, excepting rosewater, the older the more
efficacious in its property to remove the malady. Wherever zahur morah was
not available, secun-gebeen[17] (syrup of vinegar) was administered with
much the same effect. The person once attacked, although the symptoms
should have subsided by this application, is rigidly deprived of
nourishment for two or three days, and even longer if deemed expedient;
occasionally allowing only a small quantity of rose-water, which they say
effectually removes from the stomach and bowels those corrupt adhesions
which, in their opinion, is the primary cause of the complaint.
The cholera, I observed, seldom attacked abstemious people; when, however,
this was the case, it generally followed a full meal; whether of rice or
bread made but little difference, much I believe depending on the general
habit of the subject; as among the peasantry and their superiors the
complaint raged with equal malignity, wherever a second meal was resorted
to whilst the person had reason to believe the former one had not been
well digested. An instance of this occurred under my own immediate
observation in a woman, the wife of an old and favourite servant. She had
imprudently eaten a second dinner, before her stomach, by her own account,
had digested the preceding meal. She was not a strong woman, but in
tolerable good health; and but a few hours previous to the attack I saw
her in excellent spirits, without the most remote appearance of
indisposition. The usual applications failed of success, and she died in a
few hours. This poor woman never could be persuaded to abstain from food
at the stated period of meals; and the Natives were disposed to conclude
that this had been the actual cause of her sufferings and dissolution.
In 1821 the cholera raged with even greater violence than on its first
appearance in Hindoostaun; by that time many remedies had been suggested,
through the medium of the press, by the philanthropy and skill of European
medical practitioners, the chief of whom recommended calomel in large
doses, from twenty to thirty grains, and opium proportioned to the age and
strength of the patient. I never found the Natives, however, willing to
accept this as a remedy, but I have heard that amongst Europeans it was
practised with success. From a paragraph which I read in the Bengal papers,
I prepared a mixture that I have reason to think, through the goodness of
Divine Providence, was beneficial to many poor people who applied for it
in the early stages of the complaint, and who followed the rule laid down
of complete abstinence, until they were out of danger from a relapse, and
even then for a long time to be cautious in the quantity and digestible
quality of their daily meal. The mixture was as follows:
Brandy, one pint; oil or spirit of peppermint, if the former half an
ounce--if the latter, one ounce; ground black pepper, two ounces; yellow
rind of oranges grated, without any of the white, one ounce; these were
kept closely stopped and occasionally shook, a table-spoonful administered
for each dose, the patient well covered up from the air, and warmth
created by blankets or any other means within their power, repeating the
close as the case required.
Of the many individuals who were attacked with this severe malady in our
house very few died, and those, it was believed, were victims to an
imprudent determination to partake of food before they were
convalescent,--individuals who never could be prevailed on to practise
abstemious habits, which we had good reason for believing was the best
preventive against the complaint during those sickly seasons. The general
opinion entertained both by Natives and Europeans, at those awful periods,
was, that the cholera was conveyed in the air; very few imagined that it
was infectious, as it frequently attacked some members of a family and the
rest escaped, although in close attendance--even such as failed not to pay
the last duties to the deceased according to Mussulmaun custom, which
exposed them more immediately to danger if infection existed;--yet no
fears were ever entertained, nor did I ever hear an opinion expressed
amongst them, that it had been or could be conveyed from one person to
another.
Native children generally escaped the attack, and I never heard of an
infant being in the slightest degree visited by this malady. It is,
however, expedient, to use such precautionary measures as sound sense and
reason may suggest, since wherever the cholera has appeared, it has proved
a national calamity, and not a partial scourge to a few individuals; all
are alike in danger of its consequences, whether the disorder be
considered infectious or not, and therefore the precautions I have urged
in India, amongst the Native communities, I recommend with all humility
here, that cleanliness and abstemious diet be observed among all classes
of people.
In accordance with the prescribed antidote to infection from scarlet fever
in England, I gave camphor (to be worn about the person) to the poor in my
vicinity, and to all the Natives over whom I had either influence or
control; I caused the rooms to be frequently fumigated with vinegar or
tobacco, and labaun[18] (frankincense) burnt occasionally. I would not,
however, be so presumptuous to insinuate even that these were preventives
to cholera, yet in such cases of universal terror as the one in question,
there can be no impropriety in recommending measures which cannot injure,
and may benefit, if only by giving a purer atmosphere to the room
inhabited by individuals either in sickness or in health. But above all
things, aware that human aid or skill can never effect a remedy unaided by
the mercy and power of Divine Providence, let our trust be properly placed
in His goodness, 'who giveth medicine to heal our sickness', and humbly
intreat that He may be pleased to avert the awful calamity from our shores
which threatens and disturbs Europe generally at this moment.
Were we to consult Nature rather than inordinate gratifications, we should
find in following her dictates the best security to health at all times,
but more particularly in seasons of prevailing sickness. Upon the first
indications of cholera, I have observed the stomach becomes irritable, the
bowels are attacked by griping pains, and unnatural evacuations; then
follow sensations of faintness, weakness, excessive thirst, the pulse
becomes languid, the surface of the body cold and clammy, whilst the
patient feels inward burning heat, with spasms in the legs and arms.
In the practice of Native doctors, I have noticed that they administer
saffron to alleviate violent sickness with the best possible effect. A
case came under my immediate observation, of a young female who had
suffered from a severe illness similar in every way to the cholera; it was
not, however, suspected to be that complaint, because it was not then
prevailing at Lucknow: after some days the symptoms subsided, excepting
the irritation of her stomach, which, by her father's account, obstinately
rejected everything offered for eleven days. When I saw her, she was
apparently sinking under exhaustion; I immediately tendered the remedy
recommended by my husband, viz. twelve grains of saffron, moistened with a
little rose-water; and found with real joy that it proved efficacious;
half the quantity in doses were twice repeated that night, and in the
morning the patient was enabled to take a little gruel, and in a
reasonable time entirely recovered her usual health and strength.
I have heard of people being frightened into an attack of cholera by
apprehending the evil: this, however, can only occur with very weak minds,
and such as have neglected in prosperity to prepare their hearts for
adversity. When I first reached India, the fear of snakes, which I
expected to find in every path, embittered my existence. This weakness was
effectually corrected by the wise admonitions of Meer Hadjee Shaah, 'If
you trust in God, he will preserve you from every evil; be assured the
snake has no power to wound without permission.'
[1] The _Cantharis resicatoria_ is imported into India for use in blisters.
But there is a local substitute, _mylabris_, of which there are
several varieties (Watt, _Economic Dictionary_, ii. 128, v. 309).
[2] The reference is perhaps to what is known as the Dehli Boil, a form
of oriental sore, like the Biskra Button, Aleppo Evil, Lahore and
Multan Sore (Yule, _Hobson-Jobson_, 302); possibly only to
hot-weather boils.
[3] _Chadar_.
[4] For a good account of the ways of Indian ants, see M. Thornton,
_Haunts and Hobbies of an Indian Official,_ 2 ff.
[5] _Khidmatgar_.
[6] The habit of laying sugar near ants' nests is a piece of fertility
magic, and common to Jains and Vishnu-worshippers; see J. Fryor, _A
New Account of East India and Persia_, Hakluyt Society ed., I, 278.
[7] _Pipal, Ficus religiosa_.
[8] An esteemed friend has since referred me to the second chapter of the
prophet Joel, part of the seventh and eighth verses, as a better
comparison. [_Author._]
[9] The variety of locust seen in India is _acridium peregrinum_, which is
said to range throughout the arid region from Algeria to N.W. India.
They have extended as far south as the Kistna District of Madras (Watt,
_Economic Dictionary_, VI, part i, 154).
[10] _Tufan_, storm, _andhi_, darkness.
[11] Earthquakes tend generally to be more frequent in the regions of
extra-peninsular India, where the rocks have been more recently folded,
than in the more stable Peninsula. Serious earthquakes have occurred
recently in Assam, June, 1897, and in Kangra, Panjab, April,
1907. (_Imperial Gazetteer of India_, 1907, i. 98 f.)
[12] Kanauj, in the Farrukhabad District, United Provinces of Agra
and Oudh. The ruin of the great city was due to attacks by Mahmud
of Ghazni, A.D. 1019, and by Shihab-ud-din, Muhammad Ghori,
in 1194.
[13] _Garm dahani_, hot inflammation, prickly heat.
[14] _Multani mitti_, 'Multan Earth', a soft, drab-coloured
saponaceous earth, like fuller's earth, used in medicine and for
cleansing the hair.
[15] Cholera (_haiza_) was known to the Hindus long before the arrival of
the Portuguese, who first described it (Yule, _Hobson-Jobson_[2], 586
ff.). The attention of English physicians was first seriously called
to it in 1817, when it broke out in the Jessore District of Bengal,
and in the camp of Marquess Hastings in the Datiya State, Central
India. (See Sleeman, _Rambles_, 163, 232.)
[16] _Zahr-mohra_, 'poison vanguard': the bezoar stone, believed to be
an antidote to poison (Yule, _Hobson-Jobson_[2], 90 f.).
[17] _Sikanjabin_, oxymel, vinegar, lime-juice, or other acid, mixed
with sugar or honey.
[18] _Loban_.