SKETCHES ON THE GANGES FROM DINAPŪR TO BENARES.
The Soane River—Chuppra—Revelgunge—The Fair at
Bulleah—Bamboos—The Wreck—Buxar—The Peepul Tree and Temple of
Mahadēo—Barrah—Satī Mounds—Kurum-nassa River—Palace of the
Nawāb of Ghazipūr—The Native Town—The Gigantic Image—Three
Satīs and a Mandap or Hindū Temple—Eight-and-Twenty Satīs—The
Fate of Women—The Kalsās—Station of Ghazipūr—The Stalking
Horse—Booraneepūr—Kankār Reefs—Seydpūr—Burning the Dead—Rites
for the Repose of the Soul—Brahmanī Bulls—Funeral Ceremonies of
the Romans—Raj Ghāt, Bunarus.
_1844, Nov. 20th._—To-day the scenery has been most uninteresting;
nothing to be seen but sandbanks; the river is full of shallows, and
there is no wind. Lugāoed on a fine open space in the middle of the
river; it is really a good-sized island of fine and beautifully white
sand. Four miles above Dinapūr is the junction of the Soane with the
Ganges.
_21st._—Sandbanks and shallows the whole day: we have advanced very
little, and have moored as usual on a bank. Looking around me, I see
nothing but a wilderness of sandbanks in the midst of the broad river,
only terminating with the horizon—not a tree, not a house to be seen;
here and there a distant sail. There is something very pleasing in this
monotonous solitude; the only sound the roar of the sandbanks, as they
give way and fall into the stream, with a noise like distant thunder.
These high sandbanks are undermined by the strong current, and fall in
in great masses—very dangerous to small vessels passing near them.
_22nd._—“Twenty-two miles above Dinapūr,” says the “Directory,” “on the
left bank, is the Civil station of Chuppra, the capital of the Sarun
district. Steamers seldom touch here, even in the rains. Passengers for
this place should arrange to land at Revelgunge, above it, where there
is a steam agent. The latter place, which is twenty-seven miles by water
above Dinapūr, on the left bank, is a very large grain and saltpetre
mart, and noted for boat-building. An annual fair is held there. Steamers
touch only to land passengers and a few packages to the steam agent’s
care. Thence up to Ghazipūr the villagers are said to be uncivil and
dishonest.”
We had a view of Chuppra from a distance, and then passed Revelgunge.
The tents of a Rāja were pitched on the side of the Ganges, with the
_khanats_ extending on both sides into the river to screen the Rāja from
the eyes of the curious, as he sat under a _shamiyana_ (awning) in the
centre. His camp contained several elephants, one most remarkably large,
a number of fine horses and camels, and all the retinue of a wealthy
native. Moored a little above Revelgunge.
_23rd._—A fair wind. Lugāoed off a small _bastī_ (village).
_24th._—A fair wind. Anchored off Bulleah: a large fair was being held
there on the banks of the river; we moored two miles away from it, but
the din and uproar, even at that distance, was like the sound of waves
breaking on a distant shore. I walked to the fair; it was late in the
evening, and nothing was to be seen but thousands of people sitting in
groups on the ground cooking their dinners, or lying there asleep. Some
groups of people were watching the performance of nāch girls, _go’ālā
log_, and dancing boys: every man had a long heavy bamboo in his hand, as
a defence, and a walking staff.
The fakīrs had erected altars of mud, on the top of each of which was
stuck a long bamboo, decorated with a flag. These holy personages,
entirely naked, were sitting on the ground under some freshly-gathered
boughs that were stuck up on one side. If one could but learn the real
history of one of these men, it would give one a curious insight into
human nature. A fakīr of this description is looked upon with respect
by the natives; “No one inquires his caste or tribe; he has put on the
string, and is therefore a Brahman[47].”
These men sit up all night by a fire, smoking ganja, an intoxicating
herb, eating sweetmeats and ghī, and drinking milk. They never put on any
sort of clothing, and never sleep under shelter. They say they do not
feel the cold, and they eat the offerings that are made to them. They
must receive very large sums; the bearers give from one to four paisā
to these fellows, and a rich Hindū gives a rupee. Groups of people were
sitting together singing and playing on tom-toms; the din was excessive,
and the smoke very annoying from the innumerable fires around the
pathway. To-morrow will be the last day of the fair.
_25th._—From 7 A.M. until 11 o’clock we were striving to get the boats
past the fair, which extended for miles along the bank of the river. It
being the early morning, the people were bathing by thousands; the bank
for miles was covered with moving figures ascending and descending the
steep cliff in masses as thick as they could move. The river below was
alive with the devout. Hindūs of all and every class were bathing and
performing their devotions. The budgerow was stopped some time from the
difficulty of passing her _gūn_, (tracking line,) over the tops of so
many high masts; some persons cut the gūn, and they ran away with part of
it, which theft detained us some time. The manner in which, by the aid of
a bamboo, the tracking rope is carried to the top of a mast and thrown
over it, is curious.
By the side of the river I saw several fakīrs bathing; they had thick
heads of hair and enormous beards. One man had his hand and arm erect: it
was only partly withered, his vow must therefore have been recently made,
or the arm would have been withered to the bone and immovably fixed in
its position. His body was covered with ashes, and his long elf locks,
matted with cow-dung and yellow clay, hung down like so many rusty
yellow tails. Hundreds of boats were bringing more people to the fair.
The morning being cold, the people, wrapped up in great white sheets,
were huddled together in the boats, as many as it was possible to cram
together; and at a distance the vessels looked as if they were filled
with bales of cotton.
Cows were numerous, and were undergoing the usual pūja. Sometimes a
Brahman was seen seated on a charpāī with a chatr over his head, the
charpāī supported on four bamboos that were erected in the river, and a
fine triangular red flag flying from each end of the four bamboos. The
effect was very picturesque: red and also white flags were in profusion,
denoting the abiding place of a fakīr. Beauty was extremely scarce
amongst the women. Some of the men had fine features—the skin of some of
the latter was almost of a transparent black, that of others of a dark
brown hue, and some exhibited a bright _terra di sienna_ tint. I saw no
lepers, which is remarkable; it is usual to see one of the pink-coloured
lepers amongst any great multitude bathing; and that leprosy not being
catching, the people are not driven from the society of their fellows, as
are those who are afflicted with the Arabian leprosy.
I think the number of people collected at this fair appears greater than
the number I ever saw collected at Prāg; the cliff for miles was covered
with a countless multitude. Perhaps the people were more conspicuous
on the cliffs than on the flat sands at the Tribeni. A number of
respectable-looking Hindoo women were in boats covered with an awning.
This large native village of Bulleah is seventy-four miles above Dinapūr,
on the left bank: it is a _dārogah_ station, noted for the fair annually
held there, as also for a grain mart.
This is the most dangerous part of the Ganges for quicksands and shifting
banks: the stream is very strong, boats being sometimes detained from
four to six weeks, waiting for water and a favourable breeze. The people
carry away the Ganges water from this place in sealed bottles, as they do
from Prāg, and sell it in distant parts of the country at a high price.
We had a hard day’s work tracking amidst the sandbanks against a rapid
stream, and did not anchor until the sun had set for an hour and a half,
and the full moon was high. I was very glad to see the moon; we were in
a dilemma on a bad spot in the river; however, after much labour we got
off, and lugāoed on a comfortable sandbank. A large vessel belonging to a
Mirzapūr merchant was wrecked here a month ago; I visited the wreck,—they
have recovered all but fourteen bales of linen, which they are digging
out,—they lie twelve feet under the sand. In the evening the manjhī of
my boat was preparing a bamboo to use for pushing the budgerow onwards;
I measured it as it lay on the ground; it was sixty feet in length, and
most beautifully tapered; he said he had some spare ones on board much
longer; for nine of these bamboos he only paid one rupee, and he bought
them at the spot where the Bhagirathī branches off from the Ganges. At
Prāg such a bamboo would have cost eight ānās. A chaukidār has erected
a hut close to the wreck with her fragments; there he and his people
keep guard over her; in front is an image of Mahadēo, made in mud, and
ornamented with fresh green plantain trees stuck into the sand around the
idol.
_26th._—Anchored early at Buxar, just under the fort. When walking to see
the fort I was attracted to the left by the beauty of a most remarkably
fine old peepul-tree, which overshadows a temple dedicated to Mahadēo,
whose image is within the building; on the outer wall is an image of
Hūnūmān. The temple is beautifully overshadowed, and the stems of the
peepul-tree—for it is divided into many—are old and picturesque, and
the smallness of the leaves denotes the antiquity of the tree. On the
bank of the river there is also an old peepul-tree,—its long branching
roots are exposed to view, the river having laid them bare by washing
away the bank. Buxar on the right, and Kuruntadee on the left bank, are
eighty-eight miles above Dinapūr, and are noted as being the Honourable
Company’s stud establishment: there is a small fort here where the battle
was fought.
_27th._—Quitted Buxar early, and were forced to anchor for a time at
Chounsah Beerboom, on account of a very heavy wind, which made old Gunga
rise in waves, and rocked the budgerow like a sea: started at 4 P.M. and
arrived at the Kurum-nassa river; it is a shallow, melancholy-looking,
small stream, with nothing to be seen on its banks but fishermen’s nets.
_Hilsā_ fish are here caught in great numbers, and the _rahū_ also; I
purchased one of the latter, and some quail, which were twenty-five per
rupee.
Lugāoed at Barrah, a small village on the right bank: climbed the cliff
in the evening; a fisherman who resided there showed me two satī mounds
on the top of it,—the one built of stone sacred to a Brahmān, the other
of mud in honour of a Kyiatt. A _kalsā_ is the ornament on the top of a
dome; there were two of stone, without any points on the satī mound of
the Brahmān; and two of mud, decorated with points, and one small image,
on that of the Kyiatt[48].
I gave a small present to the people, and took away one of the kalsās of
mud as a curiosity: a number of broken idols in black stone had been dug
up, and placed on the satī mound of the Brahmān,—I was anxious to have
two of them, and determined to ask the fisherman to give them to me. The
old man told me with great pride that one of his family had been a satī,
and that the Brahmāns complained greatly they were not allowed to burn
the widows, as such disconsolate damsels were ready and willing to be
grilled; he told me that a great number of mounds are on the left bank of
the river, just opposite at Beerpūr, and that there are several about two
miles higher up the stream.
The Brahmānī ducks are calling to one another from the opposite banks
of the river,—there must be several pairs of them from the ā’o! ā’o!
that I hear; this is only the second time during this voyage that I
have heard the chakwā. The wind is down, there is a soft and brilliant
moonlight,—the weather is really charming, and the moonlight nights
delicious; from the high bank by the satīs one can see the stream of the
Ganges below, glittering in its beams.
“Eight miles above Buxar, on the right bank of the river, is the
junction of the Kurum-nassa: the touch of its waters is considered as one
of the direst mishaps that can happen to a Hindū, as it is said it debars
him admittance into heaven. There is a bridge over it, built by a Rajah;
this part of the country is noted for decoits.” The bridge, which is some
distance up the river, is not visible from the junction.
Ten _P.M._; I have just returned from the satī mound, accompanied by the
old fisherman, who brought with him two of the idols of black stone from
the Brahmān’s mound, on which there were about twenty; the old man gave
them to me the moment I asked for them; I gave him a present afterwards,
therefore he did not sell his gods; but he requested to be allowed to
bring them to the boats during the darkness of the night. He and his
family are now the sole inhabitants of a little hamlet of five houses,
which was formerly inhabited by himself and his four brothers; they are
dead, and their houses, which are in ruins, are close to the mounds; the
old man lives in the centre, with one young son and two daughters, and
keeps his dwelling of mud in comfortable condition. They tell me fowls
and _chakor_ (the red-legged partridge) are abundant there; I was unable
to procure the latter.
_29th._—Stopped the budgerow for a few minutes off the ruins of the
palace of the Nawāb of Ghazipūr. The fort-like bastions rise from the
Ganges, and the palace is built above; the ghāt is of stone, wide and
good: this ruined palace has been before described in this volume, page
66. The native town of Ghazipūr is full of picturesque beauty; the
_mut’hs_ are numerous, but their architectural beauty is disfigured by
whitewash and edges of dark red paint. There is a gigantic image in mud
smeared with paint, which lies upon its back close to the water’s edge,
and has a curious effect: a little further on an old well has fallen
into the river, on account of the high cliff within which it was sunk
having been washed away; the cliff, which is of sand, and very high, is
covered with native houses, small temples, and trees, from the top to the
bottom.
[Illustration: THREE SATĪS and a MANDAP near GHĀZĪPŪR.
Sketched on the Spot by فاني پارکس]
THREE SATĪS AND A MANDAP NEAR GHAZIPŪR.
Lugāoed close to a small and very pretty mandap or Hindū temple. I went
up to see it; the Brahmān opened the door, and showed me his idols with
much pleasure. They consisted of Seeta, Rām, and Lutchman, painted red,
and decked with bits of gold and silver tinsel, and pieces of coloured
cloth. Hūnoomān was displayed on the wall painted red, and decked also
with red linen. The Brahmān gave me a ball of sweetmeat, which he said
was the usual offering at the shrine. Two fine peepul-trees, which had
been planted together, are on the high bank above the temple, and within
their shade are three satīs, built of stone, of octagonal form, and
surmounted by a dome: the point of the dome is ornamented with a kalsā
formed like a crown with a hole in the centre, and on each of its points
or horns, on certain days, a lighted lamp is placed. The cenotaph is
hollow below; and there is a little arch, through which the relatives
also on particular days place a small lamp, and offerings of flowers
within the cavity of the little building, and in the same place the two
_sīr_ are deposited. The kalsās differ in form from those at Barrah; and
the satīs are also of higher caste, being of stone and well built. If the
moon rise in time, I will sketch the spot, but I am very much fatigued,
and my head aches, not only from exposure to the sun, but from a blow I
received upon it from the tracking rope this morning. The insects do not
molest us now at night, with the exception of the musquitoes, which are
very troublesome.
On the rising of the moon I went on shore to take the sketch, and was
attracted by what appeared to be the figure of a man watching from
under a tree on a high cliff. On going up to it I found a satī, which
had fallen to ruin; the remains were whitewashed, and a large kalsā had
been placed on the top, which being also whitewashed, at a distance
produced the deception. See fig. 2, which is a sketch of this kalsā;
the satī herself, partially wrapped in her sarī, is seated upon it; it
is adorned with points, and made of mud. I brought the kalsā away with
me; it will be replaced by the _kumhār_, or potter of the village, whose
duty it is to restore all kalsās. On the other side of the old tree
was another satī mound, and small _lotās_, earthen drinking vessels,
were hung around the tree to receive the offerings of the devout. I had
the curiosity to put my hand into one of them, and found one betel-nut
which had been placed there as an offering. Peeping over a high bank, I
saw an open space of ground, on which were some fine trees, and I could
scarcely believe the number of mounds that met my eye were those of
victimized women. By a little _détour_ I found the entrance to this place
of cenotaphs, and was shocked on counting eight-and-twenty satīs. I was
alone; had a Hindū been with me, he would have made salām to each of them.
One was large and somewhat in the shape of a grave, after the form of
the satī of the Brahmān at Barrah. The others were of various forms;
the richer ones were of stone, of an octagonal shape, and surmounted by
a dome; some were so small and low, they were not higher than one foot
from the earth, like a little ant hill, but ornamented with a kalsā,
which quite covered the little mound. Those of stone were from six to
eight feet high, and of various forms. There is a hollow space within
the satī, into which, through the little arch, the offerings are placed;
and there also are deposited the two _sīr_, as they call them, which are
made of stone, and are like a cannon ball split in halves. See the plate
of the kalsās, fig. 1. One very old satī tomb, in ruins, stood on the
edge of the high cliff above the river, shaded by a clump of bamboos. The
spot interested me extremely. It is very horrible to see how the weaker
are imposed upon; and it is the same all over the world, civilized or
uncivilized—perhaps some of these young married women, from eleven to
twenty years of age, were burnt alive, in all the freshness of youth; it
may be with the corpse of some decrepit sickly old wretch to whom their
parents had given them in marriage.
The laws of England relative to married women, and the state of slavery
to which those laws degrade them, render the lives of some few in the
higher, and of thousands in the lower ranks of life, one perpetual satī,
or burning of the heart, from which they have no refuge but the grave, or
the cap of liberty,—_i.e._ the widow’s, and either is a sad consolation.
[Illustration: KULSAS.
Sketched on the spot and on Stone by فاني پارکس]
“It is this passive state of suffering which is most difficult to endure,
and which it is generally the fate of women to experience. It is too
commonly their lot to be deceived into a belief, that as they are the
gentler sex, so they ought to be the weakest. Alas, it is far otherwise;
the soldier covered with wounds of glory, the mariner warring with the
elements, the sage consuming his strength with the midnight oil, or the
bigot wearing life away with fanatical zeal in false devotion, require
not the unshrinking firmness, the never-failing patience, the unbending
fortitude which is expected from almost every woman.”
The river has encroached so much upon the cliff, and so much ground has
fallen in, that, probably, the place of the satīs was of much larger
extent; next year, most likely, those that are now tottering on the edge
of the cliff will fall into the depth below. From this place I returned
to the mandap, and sketched the satīs I had first seen. Their kalsās had
figures upon them, meant to represent the husband and wife; I brought
three of these ornaments away,—they have received all the honours; their
foreheads have been marked with red paint, lamps have been lighted and
placed upon their points, and offerings have been laid before them.
Pretty well fagged with my moonlight expedition, I returned to the boats
and slept quietly,—a great blessing.
THE KALSĀS.
Fig. 1. The two sīr.
2. A kalsā taken from under an old tree on the banks of the
Ganges, in front of the temple, in the sketch of “Three Satīs
and a Mandap near Ghazipūr.”
3. A kalsā from the satī mound of the Kyiatt at Barrah.
4 and 5. These kalsās were taken from the satī ground at
Ghazipūr, where there were twenty-eight cenotaphs, and which
was only a short distance from the three satīs represented in
the other plate. On both of them are curious representations of
the husband and wife sitting side by side.
6. This kalsā differs from the rest, being hollow at the top,
and the upper part of the dome of the cenotaph passed through
it; on the points of its horns, the Brahmān said, lights were
placed on particular days. It was taken off the top of the
satī in the foreground of the sketch, over which two lotas are
suspended to receive the offerings of the pious. Each of these
kalsās had four horns; they were much damaged by time, and some
of the horns were broken off; they were formed of coarse red
pottery.
7. The _topī-wālā_ kalsā from Allahabad,—see Vol. I. p. 96.
8. The kalsā from a satī by the temple of Bhawanī Alopee Bāgh,
Allahabad,—Vol. I. p. 96.
9. The crescent and half-moon of the above kalsā.
10. The kalsā without the points, to show the manner in which
it is made. It is the duty of the _kumhārs_, or potters of the
village, to place new kalsās as the old ones are broken, or
decay, or are taken away.
_30th._—Quitted the satī ground, and came up to the Cantonment ghāt just
below the tomb of the Marquis Cornwallis. We are now in the north-western
provinces, in which my husband holds his appointment under the
Lieutenant-Governor of Agra, and have announced our arrival in due form.
The Civil and Military station of Ghazipūr is one hundred and nineteen
miles above Dinapūr, or thirty-one miles above Buxar on the left bank
of the river. The native town is built on precipices; the European
inhabitants reside on a large plain about the centre of the station; the
cantonments form the upper part, and the European hospital is at the
other extreme. Between the Civil and Military lines are the chapel and
the tomb. It is noted for its opium manufactory, and Government stud
establishment, where horses can be purchased, as also for its rose-water,
atr of roses, and other perfumed oils. Provisions of all sorts may be
purchased here, also European articles and millinery. Its distance
from Calcutta, viâ Bhagirathī, is six hundred and twenty-seven miles,
viâ Sunderbunds nine hundred and fifteen, and by land four hundred and
thirty-one. The dāk runs in four days—steamer’s passage, from seventeen
to twenty days: they remain here for passengers, cargo, and coal.
Passengers for Ghoruckpūr should land here. This is the lower extreme of
the North-Western Provinces, or Agra Presidency, and is a great place of
trade; it is also the lowest station for the Agra flat-boats. _Kankarī_
banks, a sort of stony gravel, commence here, and run hence upwards. At
this station we purchased game; a man came to our boats, and offered
two wild geese and three wild ducks for sale; he carried a long native
matchlock, and led a cow by a string; this cow he used as a stalking
horse, the birds being so shy it would otherwise be impossible to get
within shot distance.
_Dec. 1st._—A good day, having had but little contrary wind; lugāoed
off Booraneepūr. On the edge of the high cliff stood a little temple
and a large peepul-tree, very picturesque, which induced me to climb
the rough kankarī bank, and to find my way to the temple through a
deserted village; there were a great number of ruined huts, and very few
inhabitants; the village dogs barked most fiercely at a distance, and
skulked away at my approach. This is the fall of the leaf, and the large
peepul-tree was nearly leafless, which showed off its long and peculiar
branches; one branch, at the height of about eight feet from the ground,
stretched out in a horizontal direction to the length of sixty feet:
although it is now winter for the peepul, in three weeks more it will be
covered with fresh green leaves. At the foot of the tree was a large satī
mound of mud; it was so much neglected that no pious hand had placed even
a kalsā on the top, and not a flower had been offered there, nor a lamp
burned in pūja. A little Hindoo temple of octagonal form stood on the
extreme edge of the cliff, some fragments of idols were placed against
its side; no Brahmān was there, and the place looked cold and desolate; a
young banyan tree formed the background, and the Ganges spread its broad
waters to the far horizon.
The “Directory” says,—“Eight miles above Ghazipūr is the dangerous
kankār reef that strikes directly across the river. Twenty-three miles
above Ghazipūr is Chochookpore stone ghāt and temple, noted for the
numerous monkeys that resort there. Two miles above Chochookpore, on the
right bank of the river, is the sunken rock, opposite to a palm-tree
just below Sanotie.” All the difficulties and dangers, monkeys and
all, we have passed to-day, without being conscious of their existence;
the monkeys and temples I was sorry I did not see,—we passed without
observing them. The river has been very uninteresting, nothing to look
at, and very few vessels: moored on a most solitary and insulated
sandbank.
“Thirty miles above Ghazipūr by Kucharee, on the left bank, is a
difficult channel with a dangerous sunken reef. Six miles above it is
Seydpūr, a large native town, with a _tahsīldār_ and a _dārogha_: and
two miles above Seydpūr is the junction of the Goomtie river, that goes
up to Lucnow, said to be a very intricate and rocky stream, too shallow
for the smallest boats in the dry season. The Ganges, from above Kucharee
reef, past Seydpūr, up to the Goomtie, a distance of eight miles, is a
very difficult passage, with various bad patches of kankar rock, on which
native boats and budgerows split instantaneously.
“Five miles above the Goomtie is Chandroutī, with a white temple. In
mid-channel is a very dangerous pakka platform, on kankar, with the ruins
of an old temple on it, and no passable channel on its north-west or
Zinhore side, and very dangerous for downward-bound boats, as the current
sets directly upon it.” At Seydpūr is a very elaborately carved mandap or
Hindū temple, of elegant form.
FUNERAL RITES.—BURNING THE DEAD.
As our boats passed slowly along, we had an opportunity of witnessing
the funeral rites of the Hindūs: the burning of a corpse was being
performed just at the base of the cliff on the edge of the river. The
nearest relative, as is the custom, was stirring up the body, and pushing
it well into the flames with a long pole: much oil and ghī must have
been expended and poured over the wood, as it burnt fiercely. The face
of the corpse looked cold and pale and fixed, as the wind blew aside
the flames and smoke, and enabled me to behold a scene that shocked me:
in all probability the son was performing the ceremony. We read of the
Romans burning their dead, regard it in a classical light, and think of
it without disgust,—but when you see the ceremony really performed it
is very painful: nevertheless, a sort of absurdity was mixed with it in
my mind, as “stir him up with the long pole” flashed across my memory. A
group of relatives were sitting by the river-side, watching the ceremony;
on its conclusion they will bathe and return to their homes.
The _kapāl-krīyā_, a ceremony among Hindūs, is, that when a dead body is
burning, and nearly reduced to ashes, the nearest relation breaks the
skull with the stroke of a bamboo, and pours ghī (clarified butter) into
the cavity. Hence _kapāl-krīyā karna_, to think intensely, to beat or
cudgel one’s brains.
The charpāī on which the corpse had been carried, being reckoned unclean,
had been thrown into the river, and the broken lota that had contained
ghī was at its side. The scene was reflected in the Ganges. From the
quantity of wood and ghī consumed the departed must have been a rich man:
the relatives of the very poor scarcely do more than scorch the body, and
throw it into the river, where it floats swollen and scorched—a horrible
sight.
“The burning of the body is one of the first ceremonies the Hindūs
perform for the help of the dead in a future state. If this ceremony
have not been attended to, the rites for the repose of the soul cannot
be performed. If a person be unable to provide wood, cloth, clarified
butter, rice, water-pans, and other things, besides the fee for the
priest, he must beg among his neighbours. If the body be thrown into the
river, or burnt, without the accustomed ceremonies, as is sometimes the
case, the ceremonies may be performed over an image of the deceased made
of kooshŭ grass. Immediately after death the attendants lay out the body
on a sheet, placing two pieces of wood under the head and feet; after
which they anoint the corpse with clarified butter, bathe it with the
water of the Ganges, put round the loins a new garment, and another over
the left shoulder, and then draw the sheet on which the body lies over
the whole. The heir-at-law next bathes himself, puts on new garments, and
boils some rice, a ball of which and a lighted brand he puts to the mouth
of the deceased, repeating incantations. The pile having been prepared
he sets fire to it, and occasionally throws on it clarified butter and
other combustibles. When the body is consumed he washes the ashes into
the river; the attendants bathe, and presenting a drink-offering to the
deceased, return home: before they enter the house, however, each one
touches fire and chews some bitter leaves, to signify that parting with
relations by death is an unpleasant task.”
The rites for the repose of the soul, the offerings made in a person’s
name after his decease, and the ceremonies which take place on the
occasion, are called his shraddhŭ; which the Hindūs are very anxious to
perform in a becoming manner. The son who performs these rites obtains
great merit; the deceased is satisfied, and by gifts to the Brahmāns in
his name he obtains heaven.
The Hindū shastrŭs teach that after death the soul becomes _prétŭ_, a
departed ghost,—namely, takes a body about the size of a person’s thumb,
and remains in the custody of Yŭmŭ, the judge of the dead. At the time
of receiving punishment the body becomes enlarged, and is made capable
of enduring sorrow. The performance of the rites for the repose of the
soul, delivers the deceased at the end of a year from this state, and
translates him to the heaven of the Pitrees, where he enjoys the reward
of his meritorious actions, and afterwards in another body, enters into
that state which the nature of his former actions assign to him. If the
shraddhŭ be not performed the deceased remains in the prétŭ state, and
cannot enter another body.
There are three shraddhŭs for the dead: one, eleven days after the
death; another, every month; and another, at the close of a year after a
person’s decease. During the ten days of mourning the relatives hold a
family council, and consult on the means of performing the shraddhŭ; on
the last of these days, after making an offering for the dead by the side
of the river, they are shaved. On the next day after the performance of
numerous ceremonies, and offerings made to the priests, the son goes into
the house, and placing a Brahmān and his wife on a seat, covers them with
ornaments, worships them, and adding a large present of money, dismisses
them. After this the son of the deceased requests five Brahmāns to offer
a male calf, in doing which they take two cloths each, four poitas, four
betel-nuts, and some kourees, and go with the company to a spot where an
altar has been prepared, one cubit high, and four cubits square. Four
of the Brahmāns sit on the four sides of the altar, and there worship
certain gods, and offer a burnt sacrifice. Near the altar are placed the
shalgramŭ, four female calves, a male calf, and a vilwŭ post. The fifth
Brahmān reads a portion of a poorană, to drive away evil spirits. The
female calves are tied to four vilwŭ posts, and the male calf to a post
called vrishŭ post. To the necks of the cow-calves four small slender
baskets are suspended, in which are placed, among other things, a comb,
and the iron instrument with which Hindū women blacken their eyelids. A
sheet of metal is placed under the belly of the bull-calf,—on the back a
sheet of copper: the hoofs are covered with silver, and the horns with
gold, if the shraddhŭ be performed by a rich man. On the hips of the
bull-calf marks of Shivŭ’s trident are impressed with a hot iron. After
this the son of the deceased washes the tail of the bull-calf, and with
the same water presents a drink-offering to his deceased ancestors: and
afterwards marries the bull-calf to the four cow-calves, repeating many
formulas, in which they are recommended to cultivate love and mutual
sympathy. The son next liberates the cow-calves, forbidding any one to
detain them, or partake of their milk in future. In liberating the male
calf, he says, “I have given thee these four wives, live with them! Thou
art the living image of Yŭmŭ; thou goest upon four legs. Devour not the
corn of others, &c.” The cow-calves are generally taken by Brahmāns,
the bull-calf is let loose, to go where he pleases: these bulls wander
about, and are treated by the Hindūs with great respect; no one can claim
any redress for the injury they do, and no Hindū dare destroy them. The
English call them “Brahmanī bulls.” There are various other rites too
numerous to detail, and the sums are enormous which at times are spent on
the shraddhŭ.
The funeral rites of the Romans and those of the Hindūs are not very
dissimilar. The Romans paid the greatest attention to them, because
they believed that the souls of the unburied were not admitted into the
abodes of the dead; or at least wandered a hundred years along the river
Styx, before they were allowed to cross it; for which reason, if the
bodies of their friends could not be found, they erected to them an empty
tomb (_cenotaphium_), at which they performed the usual solemnities;
and to want the due rites was esteemed the greatest misfortune. The
nearest relation closed the eyes and mouth of the deceased, and when the
eyes were closed they called upon the deceased by name several times at
intervals: the corpse was then laid on the ground, bathed, and anointed
with perfumes. The body, dressed in the best attire which the deceased
had worn when alive, was laid on a couch in the vestibule, with the feet
outwards; the couch was sometimes decked with leaves and flowers. A small
coin (_triens_ vel _obolus_) was put in his mouth, which he might give
to Charon for his freight. The Romans at first usually interred their
dead, which is the most ancient and most natural method. They early
adopted the custom of burning (_cremandi_ vel _comburendi_) from the
Greeks, which is mentioned in the laws of Numa, and of the twelve tables,
but it did not become general till towards the end of the republic.
Numa forbade his own body to be burned, according to the custom of the
Romans, but he ordered it to be buried near Mount Janiculum, with many
of the books which he had written. Sylla was the first of the Patrician
branch of the _gens Cornelia_ that was burnt; which is supposed to have
been in accordance with his wishes; for, having ordered the remains of
Marius to be taken out of his grave, and thrown into the river Anio, he
was apprehensive of the same insult. Sylla died A.D. 78. Pliny ascribes
the first institution of burning among the Romans to their having
discovered that the bodies of those who fell in distant wars were dug
up by the enemy. Under the emperors it became almost universal, but was
afterwards gradually dropped upon the introduction of Christianity, so
that it had fallen into disuse about the end of the fourth century. On
the day of the funeral, when the people were assembled, the body was
carried out with the feet foremost on a couch, covered with rich cloth,
and supported commonly on the shoulders of the nearest relations of
the deceased or of his heirs. Poor citizens were carried to the funeral
pile in a plain bier or coffin, usually by four bearers: the funeral
couches were sometimes open and sometimes covered. Torches were used both
at funerals and marriages. The funeral procession was regulated by a
person called _Designator_, attended by lictors, dressed in black, with
their fasces inverted; sometimes, also, by the officers and troops, with
their spears pointing to the ground. First, went musicians of various
kinds,—then, mourning women, hired to lament and sing the funeral song;
next came players and buffoons, who danced and sang; one of them, called
_Archimimus_, supported the character of the deceased, imitating his
words and actions while alive; then followed the freedmen. Before the
corpse were carried images of the deceased, and of his ancestors, on long
poles or frames, but not of such as had been condemned for any heinous
crime, whose images were broken. Behind the corpse walked the friends
of the deceased in mourning,—his sons with their heads veiled, and his
daughters with their heads bare, and their hair dishevelled, contrary to
the ordinary custom of both; the magistrates without their badges, the
nobility without their ornaments. The nearest relations sometimes tore
their garments, and covered their hair with dust, or pulled it out; the
women, in particular, who attended the funeral, beat their breasts and
tore their cheeks, although this was forbidden by the twelve tables. At
the funeral of an illustrious citizen the corpse was carried through the
forum, where the procession stopped, and a funeral oration (_laudatio_)
was delivered in praise of the deceased from the _rostra_, by his son,
or by some near relation or friend. The honour of a funeral oration was
decreed also to women, old or young, married or unmarried. From the forum
the corpse was carried to the place of burning or burial, which the law
of the twelve tables ordered to be without the city,—_Hominem mortuum in
urbe ne sepelito, neve urito_,—according to the customs of other nations;
the Jews, the Athenians, and others. The Romans prohibited burning or
burying in the city, both from sacred and civil considerations, and that
the air might not be infected. The vestal virgins were buried in the
city, and some illustrious men, which right their posterity retained, but
did not use.
The funeral pile (_rogus_ vel _pyra_) was built in the form of an altar,
with four equal sides; hence called _ara sepulchri_, _funeris ara_, of
wood which might easily catch fire, as fir, pine, cleft oak, unpolished,
according to the law of the twelve tables, _rogum ascia ne polito_,
but not always so; also stuffed with paper and pitch, made higher or
lower according to the rank of the deceased (hence _rogus plebeius_),
with cypress-trees set around to prevent the noisome smell, and at the
distance of sixty feet from any house. On the funeral pile was placed the
corpse, with the couch; the eyes of the deceased were opened; the nearest
relations kissed the body with tears, and then set fire to the pile with
a lighted torch, turning away their faces (_aversi_) to show that they
did it with reluctance. They prayed for a wind to assist the flames, as
the Greeks did, and when that happened it was thought fortunate. They
threw into the fire various perfumes (_odores_), incense, myrrh, cassia,
&c.; also cups of oil and dishes (_dapes_ vel _fercula_), with titles
marking what they contained: likewise the clothes and ornaments, not
only of the deceased, but their own; every thing, in short, that was
supposed to be agreeable to the deceased while alive; all these were
called _munera_ vel _dona_. If the deceased had been a soldier, they
threw on the pile his arms, rewards, and spoils. At the funeral of an
illustrious commander the soldiers made a circuit (_decurrebant_) three
times round the pile, from right to left (_orbe sinistro_), with their
ensigns inverted, and striking their weapons on one another to the sound
of the trumpet, all present accompanying them, as at the funeral of
Sylla, and of Augustus, which custom seems to have been borrowed from the
Greeks, was used also by the Carthaginians, and was sometimes repeated
annually at the tomb. As the _manes_ were supposed to be delighted with
blood, various animals, especially such as the deceased had been fond of,
were slaughtered at the pile, and thrown into it; in ancient times, also
men, captives, or slaves, to which Cicero alludes. Afterwards instead of
them, gladiators, called _bustuarii_, were made to fight; so amongst the
Gauls, slaves and clients were burnt on the piles of their masters; among
the Indians and Thracians, wives on the piles of their husbands: thus
also, among the Romans, friends testified their affection; as Plotinus to
his patron, Plautius to his wife Orestilla, soldiers to Otho, Mnester, a
freed-man, to Agrippina.
Instances are recorded of persons who came to life again on the funeral
pile after it had been set on fire, so that it was too late to rescue
them; and of others, who having revived before the pile was kindled,
returned home on their feet. When the pile was burnt down, the fire was
extinguished, and the embers soaked with wine; the bones were gathered
(_ossa legebantur_) by the nearest relations, with loose robes, and
sometimes barefooted. We also read of the nearest female relations who
were called _funeræ_ vel _funereæ_, gathering the bones in their bosom.
The bones and ashes, besprinkled with the richest perfumes, were put into
a vessel called _urna_, an urn, made of earth, brass, marble, silver, or
gold. Sometimes, also, a small glass vial full of tears, called by the
moderns a _lachrymatory_, was put in the urn, and the latter was solemnly
deposited in the sepulchre.
When the body was not burnt, it was put into a coffin (_arca_ vel
_loculus_) with all its ornaments, usually made of stone, as that of
Numa, so of Hannibal; sometimes of Assian stone, from _Asses_, or
-_us_, a town in Troas or Mysia, which consumed the body in forty days,
except the teeth, hence called _sarcophagus_, which word is also put
for any coffin or tomb. The coffin was laid in the tomb on its back; in
what direction among the Romans is uncertain; but among the Athenians,
looking to the west. When the remains of the deceased were laid in
the tomb, those present were three times sprinkled by a priest with
pure water (_aqua pura_ vel _lustralis_), from a branch of olive or
laurel (_aspergillum_), to purify them. Then they were dismissed by the
_præfica_, or some other person, pronouncing the solemn word _ilicet_,
i.e. _ire licet_, you may depart. At their departure, they used to take
a last farewell, by repeating several times _vale_, or _salve æternùm_;
adding, _nos te ordine, qua natura permiserit, cuncti sequemur_. The
friends, when they returned home, as a further purification, after being
sprinkled with water, stepped over a fire (_ignem supergrediebantur_),
which was called _suffitio_. The house itself was also purified, and
swept with a certain kind of broom. There were certain ceremonies for
the purification of the family, when they buried a thumb, or some part
cut off from the body before it was burnt, or a bone brought home from
the funeral pile, on which occasion a soldier might be absent from duty.
On the ninth day after the funeral, a sacrifice was performed, called
_novendiale_, with which these solemnities were concluded.
Oblations or sacrifices to the dead (_inferiæ_, vel _parentalia_,)
were afterwards made at various times, both occasionally and at stated
periods, consisting of liquors, victims, and garlands; these oblations
were to appease;—to revenge, an atonement was made to their ghosts.
The sepulchre was then bespread with flowers, and covered with crowns
and fillets: before it, there was a little altar, on which libations
were made, and incense burnt, and a keeper was appointed to watch the
tomb, which was frequently illuminated with lamps. A feast was added,
called _silicernium_, both for the dead and the living. Certain things
were laid on the tomb, commonly beans, lettuces, bread, and eggs, or the
like, which it was supposed the ghosts would come and eat; hence _cœna
feralis_; what remained was burnt; for it was thought mean to take away
any thing thus consecrated, or what was thrown into the funeral pile.
The Romans commonly built tombs for themselves during their lifetime; if
they did not live to finish them, it was done by their heirs, who were
often ordered by the testament to build a tomb. The highest honours were
decreed to illustrious persons after death. The Romans worshipped their
founder Romulus as a god, under the name of Quirinus. Hence afterwards
the solemn _consecration_ of the emperors, by a decree of the senate,
who were thus said to be ranked in the number of the gods, also of some
empresses: temples and priests were assigned to them—they were invoked
with prayers—men swore by their name or genius, and offered victims on
their altars.
The entrance to the Goomtie river is very narrow, and a bridge of
sixteen boats is placed across it. At Chandroutī is a white temple much
carved—the platform in the centre of the stream stands out about two
feet high—a bamboo was stuck upon it, and several birds were perched
on the stones. The ruins of the temple must have fallen into the river
I suppose, as no ruins are there, only a very few stones:—this is to
be lamented. It must have been very picturesque, and it also must have
pointed out the dangerous spot to vessels. The navigation is perplexing,
but we came through it without any mischance, and, after a great deal of
annoyance, anchored at 10 P.M. off a village; our time to lugāo the boats
has usually been four hours earlier. The Hindūs, who have had no dinner
to-day, must be sick and weary; we could not get to the bank, on account
of the shallowness of the water until this hour. The Musalmān crew of the
budgerow cook and eat on board; the crews of the woolāk and cook-boat,
being Hindūs, cook and eat on the river-side, that they may not defile
the sacred Gunga.
If you lugāo near a village the chaukidārs come down and guard your
boats; if you anchor on a sandbank you guard your own boats, and are
generally distant from robbers; nevertheless, care is required through
the night, and a watch should be set on each vessel during the dark hours.
Five miles above Chandroutī is Bullooah ghāt and ferry on the right
bank,—the banks are formed of _kankar_ rock. Exactly opposite the ferry,
the budgerow struck on a sunken bank, which was very deep in the water;
we were detained upwards of two hours ere she could be got off; the
rudder was unshipped by the manjhī, and after great labour we were once
again afloat, without having sustained much damage. The river is very
shallow, and to find the deep stream is difficult in a budgerow.
“Fifty miles above Ghazipūr, or eight above Bullooah ghāt, on the right
bank of the river, is Kye, and its sunken kankar reef—scarcely avoidable
in some dry seasons. Thence due west over the right bank you may observe
the Benares minarets—distant nine miles.” A little wind aided us, and we
lugāoed at 6 P.M. at Rāj ghāt, Benares. A number of temples and tombs,
with the minarets beyond, looked well in the distance as we approached;
but the smoke of the evening fires on the bank, and the red glare of the
setting sun, rendered all objects indistinct. I walked to see a tomb on
the top of the high cliff a little below Rāj ghāt; it is enclosed by
stone walls in a garden, and is a handsome monument; many tombs are on
the outside by the ravine. It is a very picturesque spot. Thus closed the
evening at Rāj ghāt.