SKETCHES ON THE GANGES FROM BENARES TO BINDACHUN.
“AT BUNARUS YOU SHOULD BE ON YOUR GUARD AGAINST THE WOMEN, THE SACRED
BULLS, THE STAIRS, AND THE DEVOTEES[49].”
Benefits arising from a Residence in the Holy City of
Kāshī—Kalŭ-Bhoirŭvŭ—The Snake-Charmers—Gigantic Image of
Hunoomān—Brahmanī Bulls—The Ghāts from the River—Bhīm
Singh—Tulsī Altars—Ruins of the Ghāt of the ex-Queen of
Gwalior—A Corpse—Young Idolaters—State Prisoners—The
City—Sultanpūr—Chunar—Picturesque Tree near the Ghāt—Singular
Ceremonies—The Deasil—Turnbull Gunge—Mirzapūr—Beautiful Ghāts
and Temples—Carpet Manufactory—Bindachun.
_1844, Dec. 5th._—A friend accompanied me this morning to view Benares,
or, as it is more correctly called, Bunarus: nothing pleases me more than
driving about this city,—the streets, the houses, and the people are so
well worth seeing. “A little to eat, and to live at Bunarus,” is the
wish of a pious Hindū; but a residence at this place is rather dangerous
to any one inclined to violate the laws, as the following extract will
testify:—“Kalŭ-Bhoirŭvŭ is a naked Shivŭ, smeared with ashes; having
three eyes, riding on a dog, and holding in one hand a horn, and in
another a drum. In several places in Bengal this image is worshipped
daily. Shivŭ, under this name, is the regent of Kāshī (Bunarus). All
persons dying at Benares are entitled to a place in Shivŭ’s heaven; but
if any one violate the laws of the shastrŭ during his residence there,
Kalŭ-Bhoirŭvŭ at death grinds him betwixt two mill-stones.”
THE SNAKE-CHARMERS.
_6th._—Some of these people came down to the river-side, and displayed
their snakes before the budgerow; they had two boa constrictors, one of
which was of enormous size; the owner twined it about his neck after the
fashion in which a lady wears her sable boa; the other, which was on
the ground, glided onwards, and the man pulled it back, as it appeared
to be inclined to escape into the water. They had a number of the cobra
di capello, twenty or more, which, being placed on the ground, reared
themselves up, and, spreading out their hoods, swayed themselves about
in a fashion which the men called dancing, accompanied by the noise of
a little hand-drum. The snake-charmers struck the reptiles with their
hands, and the snakes bit them repeatedly on their hands, as well as
on their arms, bringing the blood at each bite; although the venomous
fangs have been carefully removed, the bite itself must be disagreeable;
nevertheless, the natives appear not to mind it in the least. There was
no trick in the case; I saw a cobra bite his keeper five or six times on
his hand and arm, the man was irritating it on purpose, and only desisted
when he found I was satisfied that there was no deception. At the
conclusion of the exhibition they caught the cobras, and crammed them all
into _gharās_ (earthen vessels); the boas were carried off in a basket.
In the evening I walked to a dhrumsāla or alms-house on the bank of the
river, a little above Rāj ghāt; it is situated on the top of a high
flight of steps, and is very picturesque. On the steps of the stone ghāt
below is a gigantic image of Hunoomān, made of mud, and painted according
to the most approved fashion. The natives were very civil, showing me the
way to different places, and yet the Benares people have a _bud nām_ (bad
name) in that respect, being reckoned uncivil to strangers.
On the steps of the ghāt I met a very savage Brahmanī bull; the beast
was snorting and attacking the people,—he ran at me, but some men drove
him off; there were numbers of them in the bazār, but this was the only
savage one I encountered; the rest were going quietly from gram-stall
to gram-stall, apparently eating as much as they pleased. The merchants
would be afraid to drive the holy bulls away with violence.
_7th._—Quitted Rāj ghāt early, and tracked slowly past Benares, stopping
every now and then to take a sketch of those beautiful ghāts. The minārs
rear their slender forms over the city, and it is not until you attempt
to sketch them that their height is so apparent, and then you gaze in
astonishment at them, marvelling at the skill that has reared structures
of such height and elegance, and at the honesty of the workmen, who have
given such permanent cement to the stones.
A little farther on is a cluster of Hindū temples of extreme beauty and
most elaborate workmanship, with a fine ghāt close to them; one of these
temples has been undermined by the river, and has fallen—but not to the
ground; it still hangs over the stream,—a most curious sight. How many
temples the Ganges has engulphed I know not; some six or seven are now
either deeply sunk in, or close to the water, and the next rains will
probably swell the river, and undermine two or three more. A fine ghāt at
the side of these has fallen in likewise.
Above this cluster of falling temples is a very beautiful ghāt, built of
white stone,—I know not its name; but I sketched it from the boats. It is
still uninjured by time, and is remarkable for the beauty of its turrets,
over the lower part of which a palm-tree throws its graceful branches
in the most picturesque manner. On the top of a small ghāt, just higher
than the river, at the bottom of a long flight of steps, two natives were
sitting, shaded from the sun by a large _chatr_; groups of people in the
water were bathing and performing their devotions,—many were passing
up and down the flight of stone steps,—whilst others, from the arched
gallery above, were hanging garments of various and brilliant colours to
dry in the sun. On the outside of some of the openings in the bastions
straw mats were fixed to screen off the heat.
Just above this fine structure, on a small ghāt, a little beyond the
minarets, is a gigantic figure in black stone of Bhīm Singh, a deified
giant, of whom it is recorded that he built the fortress of Chunar in one
day, and rendered it impregnable. The giant is represented lying at full
length on his back, his head, adorned with a sort of crown, is supported
on raised masonry; at his right side is erected a small altar of mud,
of conical form, bearing on its top a tulsī plant; the natives water
these plants, and take the greatest care of them. The tulsī had formerly
the same estimation amongst the Hindūs, that the misletoe had amongst
the ancient Britons, and was always worn in battle as a charm; on which
account a warrior would bind a _mala_ of tulsī beads on his person. The
scene was particularly picturesque; below the ghāt, on which reposed the
gigantic hero, were some native boats; and near them was a man dipping
a piece of cloth embroidered in crimson and gold into the water; while,
with a brilliant light and shade, the whole was reflected in the Ganges.
A little distance beyond I observed a number of small ghāts rising from
the river, on each of which a similar conical tulsī altar was erected,
and generally, at the side of each, the flag of a fakīr was displayed
from the end of a long thin bamboo. A man who appeared to be a mendicant
fakīr, came down to the river-side, carrying in one hand a long pole,
and in the other one joint of a thick bamboo, which formed a vessel for
holding water, and from this he poured some of the holy stream of the
Ganges on the little shrub goddess the tulsī.
In the midst of hundreds and hundreds of temples and ghāts, piled one
above another on the high cliff, or rising out of the Ganges, the mind
is perfectly bewildered; it turns from beauty to beauty, anxious to
preserve the memory of each, and the amateur throws down the pencil in
despair. Each ghāt is a study; the intricate architecture, the elaborate
workmanship, the elegance and lightness of form,—an artist could not
select a finer subject for a picture than one of these ghāts. How soon
Benares, or rather the glory of Benares—its picturesque beauty—will be no
more! Since I passed down the river in 1836 many temples and ghāts have
sunk, undermined by the rapid stream.
The Bāiza Bā’ī’s beautiful ghāt has fallen into the river,—perhaps from
its having been undermined, perhaps from bad cement having been used. Her
Highness spared no expense; probably the masons were dishonest, and that
fine structure, which cost her fifteen lākh to rear a little above the
river, is now a complete ruin.
The ghāt of Appa Sāhib is still in beauty, and a very curious one at
the further end of Benares, dedicated to Mahadēo, is still uninjured;
a number of images of bulls carved in stone are on the parapet of the
temple, and forms of Mahadēo are beneath, at the foot of the bastions.
We loitered in the budgerow for above six hours amongst the ghāts, which
stretch, I should imagine, about three miles along the left bank of the
Ganges.
At the side of one of the ghāts on the edge of the river sat a woman
weeping and lamenting very loudly over the pile of wood within which
the corpse of some relative had been laid; the friends were near, and
the pile ready to be fired. I met a corpse yesterday in the city, borne
on a flat board; the body and the face were covered closely with bright
rose-coloured muslin, which was drawn so tightly over the face that its
form and features were distinct; and on the face was sprinkled red powder
and silver dust; perhaps the dust was the pounded talc, which looks like
silver.
How soon the young Hindūs begin to comprehend idolatry! A group of
children from four to seven years old were at play; they had formed with
mud on the ground an image of Hunoomān, after the fashion of those they
had seen on the river-side; and they had made imitations of the sweetmeat
(_pera_) in balls of mud, to offer to their puny idol.
I was at Benares eight years ago (in November, 1836); the river since
that time has undermined the ghāts, and has done so much damage, that,
in another ten years, if the Ganges encroach at an equal rate, but
little will remain of the glory of the most holy of the Hindū cities.
The force of the stream now sets full upon the most beautiful cluster of
the temples on its banks; some have been engulphed, some are falling,
and all will fall ere long; and of the Bāiza Bā’ī’s ghāt, which was so
beautiful when last I visited the place, nothing now remains but the
ruins! Her Highness objected greatly to the desire of the Government, to
force her to live in this holy city: poor lady! her destiny exemplifies
the following saying—“He who was hurt by the _bel_ (its large fruit
falling on his head) went for refuge to the _bābūl_, (the prickles of
which wounded his feet,) and he that was hurt by the _bābūl_ fled to the
_bel_[50].”
The Rajah of Sattara resides a state prisoner at Bunarus.
A buggy is to be hired at Secrole for four rupees eight ānās a day, which
is preferable to a palanquin: in visiting the city the better way is to
quit your buggy, and proceed in a tānjān, if you wish to see the curious
and ancient buildings to advantage.
I am so much fagged with the excitement of the day, gazing and gazing
again, that I can write no more, and will finish this account with an
extract from the “Directory.” “Benares on the left bank is considered as
the most holy city in India, and is certainly one of the most handsome
when viewed at a distance on the river, there being such numerous stone
ghāts and temples, some of which cost seventeen lākh of rupees. It is
the residence of some native princes, pensioners of the Hon. East India
Company, but their dwellings are divided into so many little chambers
or pigeon-holes, that the internal part of the city has the appearance
of a mass of mean buildings, piled up without any regard to order and
appearance, and narrow filthy lanes instead of streets.
“There is a large enclosed mart, called a chauk, which opens at 5
P.M., where trinkets, toys, birds, cloth, and coarse hardware are
exposed for sale. It has a large well in it, and is also a resort for
native auctions. Close to the chauk is the principal alley or mart for
_gulbadan_, a very fine silk of various patterns worn by natives as
trowsers; also fine caps with tinselled crowns, and very elegant gold
and silver embroidery; also scarfs and turbans, and pieces for fancy
head-dresses. There is likewise a traveller’s chauk, or native inn, and
a large horse mart, where very fine horses, of the Turkī, Persian, and
Cabul breeds are procurable,—as high as eight, ten, or fifteen thousand
rupees,—that are brought here by the fruit-carriers, who bring grapes and
pears from those countries. Here are several miniature painters, and also
venders of miniatures on ivory, said to be likenesses of different native
princes, their queens, and nāch girls; and also true likenesses of native
servants in costume, tradesmen, and beggars. Delhi jewellery of the best
gold is brought on board the steamers by sending for the dealers. Here is
also an old observatory, and two very high and slender minarets, one of
which has a slight inclination; travellers ascending them are expected
to give to the keeper the fee of a rupee. From their tops is a fine view
of the city, the adjacent country, and the river,—so gratifying a sight
should not be passed over by any traveller. Provisions are procurable;
partridges, quail, and wild ducks of all sorts, are to be obtained.
Steamers remain at Rāj ghāt to take in passengers, to discharge and
take in packages, and to receive coals. The civil and military station
is about four miles inland, direct from Rāj ghāt, where reside the
commissioner, the judge, the magistrates, the collectors, the general,
and all the officers of the native regiments quartered here, and some
European artillery.
“Letters must be sent for to the post-office, as they are not forwarded,
which is very inconvenient. The city is about two miles long: the natives
are very uncivil to strangers. Numerous fanatics are here, who drown
themselves, believing that the holy Ganga and the city of the most holy
secures them eternal happiness. Benares is from Calcutta, viâ Bhagirathī,
696 miles; viâ Sunderbands, 984; and by land or dāk, 428. Letters take
four days, banjhīs seven days. Palanquins are procurable here, but they
are infested with vile vermin.”
So much for the “Directory,” from which I differ. So far from the distant
view of the city giving you the best idea of it,—it is not until you
are in the midst of and close to the various and beautiful ghāts and
temples just beyond the minārs that you can have an idea of the beauty of
Benares. The best conveyance in which to visit and sketch the ghāts is a
small boat with an awning.
We passed the residence of the Raja of Benares at Ramnagar, one mile and
a half above the city; it is a handsome native palace.
_8th._—Passed _Chhotā Kalkata_, or Sultanpūr-Benares: it is a native
cavalry station, seventeen miles above Benares on the left bank of the
river. Steamers bring to here occasionally, for a few minutes, to land
passengers. It has a kankarī or rocky point, that is very awkward for
native boats,—as also for steamers, owing to a narrow channel and strong
currents; the point is off the cavalry stables, which are called Little
Calcutta.
On our arrival at Chunar we moored the boats at the request of the
_sarhang_, as the _dandīs_ wished to go on shore to buy and sell in the
bazār; they carry on a regular traffic at all the stations up the river,
and gain a heavy profit on their Calcutta lanterns, pankhas, bundles of
cane, cheeses, pickles, and a variety of articles. Chunar is famous for
its tobacco, and the men were anxious to lay in a stock for sale at other
places.
At a short distance from the landing-place, and to the left of it, is a
fine peepul-tree (Ficus religiosa), at the foot of which are a number of
idols in stone, placed in an erect position, supported by the trunk. A
native woman placed some flowers upon the idols, and poured Ganges water
over them from an earthen vessel (a _gharā_), which she carried on her
head. Another was performing a religious and superstitious ceremony,
called _pradakshina_,—that is, she was walking a certain number of times
round and round the peepul-tree, with the right hand towards it, as
a token of respect, with appropriate abstraction and prayers, in the
hope of beautiful offspring. For this reason, also, the Ficus indica
is subject to circumambulation. The same ceremony is mentioned in the
“Chronicles of the Canongate:” the old sibyl, Muhme, says to Robin Oig,
“So let me walk the _deasil_ round you, that you may go safe into the far
foreign land, and come safe home.” “She traced around him, with wavering
steps, the propitiation, which some have thought has been derived from
the Druidical mythology. It consists, as is well known, in the person
who makes the _deasil_ walking three times round the person who is the
object of the ceremony, taking care to move according to the course of
the sun.” Near the peepul-tree was an Hindū temple built of stone, but
most excessively disfigured by having been painted red; and next to it
was a smaller one of white stone. The whole formed a most picturesque
subject for the pencil. Thence I proceeded to the Fort of Chunar, and
walked on the ramparts: the little churchyard below was as tranquil as
ever, but the tombs having become dark and old, the beauty of the scene
was greatly diminished. The Ganges is undermining even the rock on which
the fortress is built. The birds’-nests, formed of mud, built under the
projections of the black rock on which it stands, are curious; and on
some parts of the rock, just above the river, small Hindū images are
carved. The “Directory” gives the following account of the place:—“On
the right bank, about four miles above Sultanpūr, is Chunar, an invalid
station, with a fortification, on an isolated rocky hill, which projects
into the river, forming a very nasty point to pass in the rains. It
completely commands the river, and is used as a place of confinement
for state prisoners. There are several detached rocky hills or stone
quarries here. It is a very sickly place, owing to the heat arising from
the stone, which causes fever and disease of the spleen. This is a great
place for snakes. A little above the fort is a temple: tradition states
it to contain a chest, which cannot be opened unless the party opening
it lose his hand,—four thieves having so suffered once in an attempt
upon it. Very fine black and red earthenware may be purchased here,—such
as wine coolers, which, being filled with water after the bottle is
inserted, and set out in the draft of the hot easterly winds (none other
serves the purpose), in the shade, cools the confined liquor as much as
iceing it: the cooler must be dried daily. Also, red sandy water-holders
or suries, which keep water very cool; black butter pots, with a casing
for water, very neatly finished; and large black double urns, to contain
bread, and keep it moist. Steamers seldom stop here more than ten
minutes.”
The Padshah Begam, the Queen of Ghazee-ood-Deen Hydur, and Moona Jāh, are
in this fortress state prisoners.
Moored our vessels off Turnbull Gunge. Of all the native villages I have
seen this is the most healthy-looking; it consists of one very long broad
road or street, with houses on each side, built after the native fashion,
but on a regular plan; and on each side the road a line of fine trees
shade the people as they sit selling their goods in the verandahs of
their houses.
The Gunge was built by a Mr. Turnbull, a medical man, who made a large
fortune in India when medical men were allowed to trade; the place bears
his name, and is situated about two miles higher up the river than Chunar.
_9th._—A little beyond Turnbull Gunge is a white mandāp (temple), on the
right bank; the top of the spire has been broken off, and it stands by
a fine peepul-tree. Just in front of it a bank of hard red mud runs out
into the river; the budgerow ran upon it with such violence that many
things in the cabin were upset; after this little fright we proceeded
very well. The dandīs were particularly miserable on account of the rain;
almost every man had clothed himself in a red jacket; for these cast-off
military jackets they had given a rupee apiece; they were very proud of
them, and afraid of getting them wetted. They wore below the usual native
dhotī—_i.e._ a piece of linen, in lieu of trowsers, above which the
European red coat had a curious effect. Anchored on a very fine sandbank
in the midst of the river; here we found a chaukidār under a straw
thatch, ready for vessels.
_10th._—“Seven miles above Chunar, on the right bank, is the village of
Kutnac, with rocky bottom and hard lumps of earth in the river; a little
above is a ravine, which is to be avoided by all boats.”
“Fourteen miles above Chunar is the crossing ferry of the Benares grand
road, and of Kitwa and Bhundoolee to Mirzapūr; thence to the latter place
is a fine road, distance seven miles and a half by land, and sixteen by
water.
“Ten miles above the ferry, and seven below Mirzapūr, on the left bank,
is Bhajoan, with a white tomb and a patch of kankar in the river, on
which many boats are lost: hence the cantonments of Mirzapūr are visible.
“Mirzapūr, a military cantonment, is two miles below the city and the
civil station: the judge’s, the magistrates’, and the collector’s offices
are one mile below the city. The steamer stops at the agency ghāt at the
lower end of the city. This place is noted for a cotton mart and cotton
manufactory; as likewise for shell lac, lac dye, and hardware in a small
way. Many boats are here at all seasons. The city is very confined,
dirty, and subject to great sickness: there are two or three very fine
stone ghāts here, and some small temples and minarets: bread, butter,
eggs, mutton, lamb, kid, veal, and fowls, are procurable. Mirzapūr is
from Calcutta, viâ Bhagirathī, 748 miles; viâ Sunderbands, 1036 miles;
and by dāk route, 455. The dāk takes five days, and banjhī eight days to
run. Steamers having plenty of cargo to land are generally detained here
four or five hours.”
The river has given us some trouble to-day, and we have grounded many
times. The white houses of the Mirzapūr cantonments stretch along the
right bank on a very high cliff; the church, a very elegant building, was
planned by Colonel Edward Smith,—the spire rises just above the ghāt of
the civil station. The manjhī of our vessel wished to anchor there, but
we pushed on to the city, and lugāoed on the other side the river, close
to a fine house, the residence of the Raja of Ramnager. We did not like
to anchor at the stone ghāt of the city, on account of the noise, smoke,
and heat produced by a crowd of native boats: this will be pleasant: I
can be up _top dāghī_ (gun-fire) to-morrow morning, and sketch the ghāts.
In the mean time the sandbank by which we are moored is cool, pleasant,
and quiet. Now for English letters!
_11th._—We found we ought to have stopped at the ghāt off Cantonments,
as there bread, butter, meat, &c., could be procured; but what cared I
for such creature comforts when I saw the ghāts in the early morning?
We crossed the river, and I went out to sketch them. There are two fine
ones, built of stone, that lie close together, and a number of temples
are upon them,—placed at intervals upon the cliff, from the river to the
top of the high bank, and very beautiful they are.
The first sketch comprehended the ghāts that rise out of the river; on
their steps of stone, multitudes of people, in the gay attire of the
East, were ascending and descending for pūja and bathing, and to bring
water up for domestic purposes; the scene was particularly animated. On
the steps of the ghāt was a large awning, formed of mats, and supported
by bamboos, under which the natives were sitting and conversing, while
it screened them from the sun. Upon the river-side were several square
platforms erected on four bamboos, with great stones beneath to support
them; and on the top of the poles were large _jhāmps_—that is, mats of
straw, which protected the people sitting inside from the rays of the
sun; these platforms were used as booths, and in them sweetmeats were
displayed for sale. Half-way up the cliff were three small temples, with
fine trees in the background, in front of which stretched the high bank
along the side of the Ganges.
The second sketch of the same ghāt was taken half-way up the cliff; on
the right are the three small temples above alluded to, which form part
of a group of singular beauty and varied form. A large shiwala or temple
dedicated to Mahadēo is next to them, and a smaller, separated only by
an archway, adjoins it; on the portico of the latter a fakīr’s staff and
flag were erected. The branches of fine trees were in the background, the
cliffs were abrupt, and the vessels on the Ganges were in the distance.
In front of the doorway of the larger temple the holy bull, (the vehicle
of Mahadēo,) was _couchant_ on a small ghāt erected for the purpose.
The third sketch was taken from the top of the cliff looking up the
river: it consists of a large shiwala or temple of Mahadēo, with a second
in front which forms a portico, beneath which _Nandi_ the holy bull
reposes _couchant_; to the side is the spire of a temple that rises from
below. The Ganges adds to the beauty of the scene, and some branches of
large trees in the background adorn the temple. No mandāp have I ever
seen so elaborately carved or so beautiful; from the basement to the
pinnacle it is a mass of intricate sculpture, united with great elegance
of design. It is covered with images of the gods, carved in stone. A
little kid, which had just been offered to the idol, was frisking about
the temple, unconscious of how soon he would be served up as a feast for
the Brahmāns. Kid is eaten by Hindūs at particular times, and the priests
consider the offerings as holy food.
There is another handsome stone ghāt a little further up the river, with
nine temples upon it; and many are the picturesque spots along the banks
of the Ganges. Mirzapūr is famous for its manufactory of carpets, which
are often sent to England; and large vessels in hundreds were off the
city. We proceeded on our voyage, and lugāoed at Bindachun.