SKETCHES ON THE RIVER FROM BINDACHUN TO ALLAHABAD.
“IF YOU BELIEVE, IT IS A GOD; IF NOT, PLASTER DETACHED FROM A WALL[51].”
Bindachun—Devī Ghāt—The Temple of Bhawānī—Bhagwān—The
Thug—The Hajjam—The Tashma-baz Thugs—The Pleasure of
Wandering—Sirsya—Munyah Ghāt—Arail—Arrival at Allahabad—Native
Sugar-cane Mills.
_1844, Dec. 11th._—We lugāoed early in the evening four miles above
Mirzapūr at the far-famed Bindachun. The first remarkable object on
approaching the place is the ghāt of the _Devī_ (goddess) which stands
out into the river; it is adorned with six bastions, which present a very
fort-like appearance, and just above it we moored our boats. Taking an
old bearer with me, whilst our people were preparing their evening meal,
I hastened up to see the famous temple of Bhawānī, the place of resort of
the Thugs, where they meet and take the vows. I ascended the steps of the
ghāt of which there are about eighty, and very steep; from their summit
you enter the bazār. This is a most curious place, and it is so narrow
it can scarcely be called a street, being not more than six feet in the
widest part, and in many places the breadth does not exceed three or
four. It is lined on both sides with native shops, as thick as possible,
and paved throughout with flag-stones. The people from the shops called
out to me, “Will you not buy a garland for the goddess, or a _tāgah_?”
“Will you not buy sweetmeats for the shrine?” Garlands of fresh flowers
were in profusion for sale.
THE TEMPLE OF BHAWĀNĪ.
[Illustration: TEMPLE OF BHAWANI.
Sketched on the Spot and on stone by فاني پارکس]
I encountered a man who happened to be an _hajjām_, a cupper and
scarifier. Now, in all Eastern stories a personage of this description
appears to be a necessary appendage, and mine, who was also a barber
and an Hindū, offered to show me the way to the temple of the Devī. The
road, which is straight through the narrow paved alley of the bazār,
must be half a mile or more in length: in time we arrived at the temple;
three flags were flying from an old peepul-tree, and the noise of the
bells which the Brahmāns were tinkling for worship told of the abode
of the goddess. The temple, which is built of stone, is of rectangular
form, surrounded by a verandah, the whole encompassed by a flight of
five steps. The roof is flat, and the pillars that support it of plain
and coarse workmanship. On the left is the entrance to the Hindū holy of
holies. The Brahmāns begged me to take off my shoes, and said I might
then enter and see the face of the goddess. I thought of the Thugs, and
my curiosity induced me to leave my shoes at the door, and to advance
about three yards into the little dark chamber. The place was in size
so small, that when six people were in it, it appeared quite full; the
walls were of large coarse stones. The worshippers were turned out of the
apartment, and they gave me a full view of the Devī, the great goddess,
the renowned Bhagwān!
The head of the figure is of black stone with large eyes, the whites
of which are formed of plates of burnished silver: these glaring eyes
attract the admiration of the Hindūs:—“Look at her eyes!” said one.
Thrown over the top of her head, strings of white jasmine flowers (the
double sweet-scented chumpa) took the place of hair, and hung down to the
shoulders. If you were to cut a woman off just at the knees, spread a
red sheet over her, as if she were going to be shaved, hiding her arms
entirely with it, but allowing her feet to be seen at the bottom, making
the figure nearly square—you would have the form of the goddess. The two
little black feet rested on a black rat, at least they called it so, and
a small emblem of Mahadēo stood at the side. Six or eight long chaplets
of freshly-gathered flowers hung from her neck to her feet festooned in
gradation,—they were formed of the blossoms of the marigold, the chumpa,
or white jasmine, and the bright red pomegranate. The figure stood upon a
square slab of black stone. It was about four feet in height, and looked
more like a child’s toy than a redoubtable goddess. The Brahmān or the
Thug, whichever he might be, (for at this shrine all castes worship,)
took a white flower, and gave it to me as a present for the goddess,
at the same time requesting a rupee as an offering at the shrine. I
had no money, but the old bearer had five paisā (about one penny three
farthings), which he gave to the Brahmān, who said, “This is not enough
to buy a sweetmeat for the goddess!” I made answer,
“I give thee all, I have no more,
Though poor the offering be.”
The man saw it was the truth, and was satisfied. The old bearer then
requested me to hold my sketch-book for a few moments whilst he went in
and put up a prayer: this I did, and the old man returned very quickly,
much pleased at having seen the Devī.
I sketched the goddess when before the shrine, the Brahmān holding the
lamp for me. Over her head was suspended from the ceiling an ornament of
white flowers, and a lamp like that in the robber’s cave in “Gil Blas”
was also hanging from the roof. There was also a lamp on the black slab,
which had the appearance of a Roman lamp. Ornaments worn on the wrists of
Hindū women, called _kangan_, formed of a small hank of red, or rather
flame-coloured cotton, intermixed with yellow, were offered to the Devī:
the Brahmāns put them on her shoulders, as arms she had none. Why and
wherefore the _kangan_ is offered, I know not. Before a satī ascends
the funeral-pile, some red cotton is tied on both wrists. This may,
probably, account for the kangan offered to Bhagwān, the patroness of
satīs.
[Illustration: BHAGWĀN.
Sketched in the Temple and on Stone by فاني پارکس]
I thought of the Thugs, but mentioned not the name in the temple; it is
not wise “to dwell in the river and be at enmity with the crocodile[52].”
In the verandah of the temple were two massive bells of a metal looking
like bronze.
I can fancy terror acting on the Hindoos when worshipping the great black
hideous idol, Kalī Ma, at Kalī-ghāt, near Calcutta; but this poor stump
of a woman, with quiet features, staring eyes of silver, and little black
feet, inspires no terror:—and yet she is Bhagwān—the dreaded Bhagwān!
The temple was crowded by men and women coming and going, as fast as
possible, in great numbers. The month of _Aghar_ is the time of the
annual meeting; it begins November 15th, and ends the 13th of December;
therefore Bindachun must be full of rascals and Thugs at this present
time, who have come here to arrange their religious murders, and to make
vows and pūja.
This visit to Bindachun interested me extremely; the style of the temple
surprised me; it is unlike any of the Hindoo places of worship I have
seen, and must be of very ancient date. The pillars are of a single
stone without ornament, rough and rude. Some of the shops in the bazār,
like the one on the right where sweetmeats are sold, are of curious
architecture; stone is used for all the buildings, quarries being
abundant in this part of the country.
The people crowded around me whilst I was sketching the exterior of the
temple, but were all extremely civil: the Brahmāns and beggars clamoured
for _paisā_ (copper coins), but were civil nevertheless. It is a
disreputable neighbourhood: I hope they will not rob the boats to-night,
as all the rascals and murderers in India flock to this temple at the
time of the annual fair, which is now being held. Having made my salām
to the great goddess, I was guided by the barber to another idol, which
he said was worshipped by very few people. It was a female figure, very
well executed in stone, with four or five figures around it, carved on
the same block. I was much inclined to carry it off; it is one of the
handsomest pieces of Hindū sculpture I have seen. A few flowers were
lying withered before it in the hovel where it stood, placed there, it
may be, by the piety of the barber. Even my husband was induced to climb
the steps of the ghāt, and to walk through the bazār to the temple,
but he did not enter it. A number of idols were under a peepul-tree
in the bazār; they were a great temptation, but in this high place of
superstition it might be dangerous to carry off a god.
This wandering life is very delightful; I shall never again be content
“to sit in a parlour sewing a seam,” which the old song gives forth as
the height of feminine felicity! Much sooner would I grope through a dark
alley idol hunting—_Apropos_, by the idols under the peepul-tree was a
satī mound, broken and deserted, not even a kālsa was there to claim the
passing salām of the Hindū, nor a flower to mark the spot: perhaps the
great goddess draws off the worshippers from the deified mortal, although
all satīs are peculiarly under her protection.
THE TASHMA-BAZ THUGS.
“Thuggee and Meypunnaism are no sooner suppressed than a new
system of secret assassination and robbery is discovered,
proving the truth of Colonel Sleeman’s remark, that ‘India
is a strange land; and live in it as long as we may, and mix
with its people as much as we please, we shall to the last be
constantly liable to stumble upon new moral phenomena to excite
our special wonder.’ As anticipated, at least one set of new
actors have to be introduced to the public, and these are the
Tashma-baz Thugs.
“The Thugs formerly discovered went forth on their murderous
expeditions under the protection of a goddess, the Tashmabazes
have for their genius a European! Who in England would be
prepared to credit that the thimble-riggers of English fairs
have in India given rise to an association that, in the towns,
bazārs, and highways of these provinces, employs the game of
_stick and garter_ as the lure for victims destined to be
robbed or murdered? Yet this is the simple fact. The British
had hardly gained possession of this territory before the
seeds of the flourishing system of iniquity, brought to light
almost half a century afterwards, were sowed in 1802 by a
private soldier in one of his majesty’s regiments stationed
at Cawnpore. The name of this man was Creagh. He initiated
several natives into the mysteries of the _stick and garter_,
and these afterwards appeared as the leaders of as many gangs,
who traversed the country, gambling with whomsoever they could
entrap to try their luck at this game. It consists of rolling
up a doubled strap, the player putting a stick between any two
of its convolutions, and when the ends of the strap are pulled,
it unrolls, and either comes away altogether, or is held at the
double by the stick, and this decides whether the player loses
or wins. A game requiring apparently no peculiar skill, and
played by parties cleverly acting their parts as strangers to
each other,—being even dressed in character,—readily tempted
any greedy simpleton to try his luck, and show his cash. If
he lost, he might go about his business; if he won, he was
induced to remain with the gamblers, or was followed, and
as opportunity offered was either stupified with poisonous
drugs, or by any convenient method murdered. Many corpses
found from time to time along the vicinity of the Grand Trunk
road, without any trace of the assassins, are now believed
to have been the remains of the Tashmabazes’ victims; and
distinct information has been obtained from their own members
of murders committed by them. The merest trifle, it seems,
was sufficient inducement to them to commit the crime, there
being one case of three poor grass-cutters murdered by those
miscreants in a jungle, merely for the sake of their trifling
personal property. Indeed, these gangs seem to have been of
a more hardened character than any other yet discovered, for
their sole aim was gain, however it might be secured, without
the plea of religious motive which regulated the proceedings
of the other fraternities. Parties of them used to visit all
the chief towns and stations of the Doab and its neighbourhood,
and established themselves in the thoroughfares leading to
the principal cities. Under the guise of gamblers, they were
often brought to the notice of the authorities, and subjected
to the trifling punishments due to minor offences; but this
was the very thing that lulled suspicion as to their real
character. They were constantly in the power of many dangerous
acquaintances; but these were bribed to silence out of their
abundant spoils. The police almost every where seem to have
been bought over. In the city of Gwalior, the _kotwal_ got
one-fourth of their profits; and in the British territory, five
rupees a day have been paid as hush-money to the neighbouring
_thannah_. Amongst their friends was the mess khansaman of a
regiment at Meerut, the brother of one of their chiefs, and
an accomplice. Gold and silver coin, and ornaments of pearl
and coral, formed part of the remittances that used to be
sent to their head-quarters at Cawnpore. Indeed, they seem to
have carried on a very safe and lucrative business, until the
magistrates of Boolundshuhr and Cawnpore pounced upon them in
the beginning of this year. Mr. Montgomery followed up their
apprehension by a full report to Government, when the matter
was taken up by the Thuggee Department, the sifting machinery
of which, in the hands of Major Graham, soon brought to light
all the facts necessary to establish that the gang formed a
hitherto unknown class of Thugs.”—_Agra Messenger, Dec. 2,
1848._
_12th._—One mile above Bindachun are the dangerous granite rocks of
Seebpūr. After a very quiet day and very little difficulty, we anchored
off the village of Bhoghwa, where we were informed by the chaukidār, that
turkeys, fowls, and birds were abundant.
The exertion of yesterday quite fagged me; I was up and sketching
from six in the morning to eleven A.M., at Mirzapūr, and again in the
evening at the temple of Bhawānī,—a day of over-fatigue, but a very
agreeable one. How I love this roaming life on the river, with the power
of stopping at any picturesque spot!—Even tracking against the stream
is most delightful to one who, like Dr. Syntax, is in search of the
picturesque. My husband objects to accompanying me through the bazārs,
because such a crowd collect after me;—he goes along quietly, but with
me it is different:—the moment I stop to sketch, a crowd collects, and
the attendants are obliged to drive them off to enable me to see the
object. I have a great sympathy for Dr. Syntax, and perfectly comprehend
the delight he took even in a picturesque horsepond. India would have
driven him wild;—it is the country of the picturesque. How I love this
life in the wilderness! I shall never be content to vegetate in England
in some quiet country place.
“Oh! it settles the spirits, when nothing is seen
But a pig on a common, a goose on a green.”
_13th._—After an uninteresting passage with monotonous scenery, we moored
off Poorooā, a village on the left bank. Wild ducks, geese, and Brahmanī
ducks are numerous on the river-side: it is very cold, so much so that I
shall be glad to retire to rest to keep myself warm.
_14th._—No wind—a warmer day, and no difficulty on the river. Anchored
at a bastī (village) about three miles below Sirsya. The Directory says,
“Twenty-eight miles above Mirzapūr, on the left bank of the river, is
Suttamaree. Passengers generally land in the cold season, and have a
walk across the neck of land in a W.N.W. direction, two miles wide to
Taila, and rejoin the steamer off that place, she having to go a _détour_
of twenty-one miles round the point. Two miles above Suttamaree is
Deega-kunkur Spit, with a deep bight.
“Letchyagurree and its ravine on the left bank of the river is twenty-two
miles above Deega, noted for its robbers, when it was attached to the
Oude territories.”
We have now arrived within a very short distance of Allahabad; I shall
be quite sorry to end my voyage, and feel the greatest reluctance to
returning into society.
_15th._—“Sirsya is a large cotton mart on the right bank; it is sixty
miles above Mirzapūr and twenty-three miles below Allahabad, to which
place there is a good road. There are several pakka (brick) houses here,
and two very fine tanks at the back of it, and an old mud fort; thence to
Prāg, the river is very intricate and shallow. Iron work in a small way
can be done for boats at this place. Turkeys and guinea-fowls abound.”
We passed Sirsya early, and found that the Queen’s 40th regiment had
just quitted the place. No fowls or provisions were to be had,—the 40th,
like a flight of locusts, had devoured every thing around the spot on
which they descended; some hilsā fish alone were to be procured, and most
delicious they proved,—not only when fresh, but also when cured with
tamarinds and vinegar. There is a house, some temples, and a peepul-tree
on the cliff, that would make a good sketch, if taken looking up the
river a little below the spot. In consequence of the shallowness of the
stream we have had much trouble all day, and were unable to lugāo until
half-past seven P.M.—cold and misty.
_16th._—Arrived at Munyah ghāt, on the right bank, at noon,—eight miles
from Prāg. The river is so intricate, and the navigation so difficult, we
shall be a length of time going those eight miles.
The “Directory” says,—“Allahabad is eighty-three miles above Mirzapūr;
its fort is at the junction of the Ganges and Jumna. The steamers put up
at the Jama Masjid, half a mile inside the Jumna. The native military
cantonments, and the place where most of the civilians and officers live,
are from three to four miles inland. State prisoners are kept here in
the fort. There is also a large stone pillar, said to have been erected
by Alexander the Great to mark his conquests. This is the seat of the
Sadr Dewanī, or principal court of justice; it was formerly the seat of
the Presidency. Bread, butter, eggs, beef, mutton, lamb, kids, fowls,
pigeons, turkeys, guinea-fowl, quail, partridge, teal, wild ducks, and
wild geese, are procurable here: Europe shops are at the station, and
auctions are held. About two miles from the ghāt is the chauk or market,
where all sorts of cloth, European and native, are procurable. Shawl-men
board the steamers, if sent for, with every kind of Cashmere shawl,
waistcoating, caps, gloves, socks, and Afghanistān woollen cloths: as
also Delhi jewellers, and manufacturers of cotton carpeting, of various
colours, showy on rooms, and rather durable. A little beyond the
chauk is the native sarā’e, where beautiful horses are at times to be
purchased, of the Persian, Cabul, and Tūrkī breeds. You must send for
your letters to the post-office.
“The distance from Calcutta, viâ Bhagirathī, is 831 miles; viâ
Sunderbands, 1186; and by dāk route, 504 miles.
“Steamer’s regulated distance is 800 miles. Steamers remain here three
entire days, when they depart on their return, taking passengers and
cargo. Apply to the agent there, or to the commander, for passage
downwards.”
In 1844 the Sadr Board of Revenue and the Criminal and Civil Court, or
Sadr Dewanī, were removed to Agra.
At half-past one, P.M., we caught the first sight of the fort and the
telegraph. The flags were flying at the junction of the rivers, and the
road from the sands over the Mahratta Band was plainly visible. Near
Arail, just below the ferry, the river is intricate; and the passage
being difficult, we lugāoed off the ferry.
_17th._—The Fort of Allahabad had an imposing appearance from the
river, and as we approached nearer we observed the flags flying at the
bathing-place in great numbers, although the fair was not set. It was
delightful once again to see old Prāg, the Jama Masjid, the old well,
surmounted by the temple—so like that of the Sibyl, where dwells the
Gossein,—the shrine of Mahadēo a little above it, our old friend’s
bungalow beyond, and the fine peepul-tree on the high bank of the Jumna,
that almost hides the house and chabūtara, where we had passed so many
years. Our old acquaintances are flocking down to welcome our return: we
are once more at Allahabad, once more lugāoed in the blue waters of the
Jumna, off the steamer ghāt.
NATIVE SUGAR MILLS.
The following account of the sugar mills, given me by Major Parlby, will
elucidate the annexed sketch, which was taken by him on the spot.
[Illustration: THE SUGAR MILLS AT BELASPORE.
Sketched on the spot, and on Stone by Major Parlby.]
“As the sugar-cane is usually cultivated all over India, and the
produce of its juice, in some form or other, is universally used, and
constitutes a valuable article of export from India when converted into
sugar, it may not be out of place to describe the construction and use of
the patriarchal and simple form of mill represented in the drawing, which
is at the village of Belaspore, on the left bank of the Ganges, near
Mirzapore, about thirty miles below Allahabad.
“It is supposed that sugar has been known and used in India and China
from the earliest ages; and historians say that it was not introduced
into the western world until after the conquest of Alexander the Great.
This construction of mill is common in many parts of India; and, rude
and simple as it is, it is found to succeed in expressing the juice
from the sugar-cane more perfectly than the rude cylinder mills which
are used in other places. The villagers knew nothing more of its origin
than that their fathers and grandfathers had used the same mills without
alteration, except the occasional renewing and repairs of the wood-work,
as required.
“Some writers,—and amongst the rest, Colonel Sleeman,—in describing
this construction of mill, term it the “Pestle and Mortar sugar mill:”
but this name is improperly applied, for the vertical beam has no
reciprocating up-and-down motion, as the pestle of a common mortar has,
but merely turns round in the cavity of the bed, as the bullocks walk
round in their circular course. The bed of the mill is formed of a large
mass of stone, of as hard a nature as can be procured in the locality,
and free from any mixture of limestone, on which, probably, the action of
the acid of the expressed juice of the cane might be injurious.
“The beds are cylindrical, ornamented externally with figures,
emblematical or religious, which are cut in relief.
“The upright beam of the mill is generally selected from a tree, the wood
of which is heavy, hard, tough, and durable; and for this purpose the
trunk of the babūl, which is indigenous in these parts, is well suited,
and is generally chosen.
“The bark is stripped off, one end is rounded, and the other is cut
to a point; the rounded end works in the hollow bed of the mill, and
on the pointed end is hitched the end of a stay, properly formed for
the purpose, the other end of which is attached to a horizontal beam,
generally formed from a strong crotched piece of wood, which is cut at
the crotched end to fit into a groove cut on the outside of the bed in
which it traverses round, and the bullocks are yoked to the end of this
beam. The stay leading from the top of the vertical beam is generally
made of two pieces, which are capable of adjustment, so that the
horizontal beam to which the bullocks are yoked may be kept at a proper
distance from the ground.
“The short pieces of cane, as they are supplied by a native, are bruised
and squeezed against the internal sides of the mortar as the vertical
beam moves round, the expressed juice running off by the channel which
is cut from the bottom, opposite to which is an earthen pan let into
the ground to receive it, a small piece of bamboo generally serving to
connect them.
“The driver sits on a frame or seat upon the end of the horizontal beam,
his own weight increasing the bruising power of the mill, which is also
assisted by adding a weight of stones, if necessary. As the process of
bruising the cane takes place in the cold season, in December, the driver
sometimes keeps himself warm by a pan of hot embers placed on the frame.
“To each of these mills at Belaspore there were six bullocks, forming
three reliefs: they work night and day as long as the cane is cutting,
three hours at a time; and in three hours about four seer or eight pounds
of juice are expressed. The juice, as the pan fills, is immediately taken
to the hut, whence the smoke is seen escaping at the door; and there,
in a boiler fixed on a rude furnace, the process of boiling the juice
to concentrate it is carried on; it is boiled down until it becomes a
substance called goor, much thicker than treacle; and in this state is
carried to the neighbouring market of Mirzapūr, where it is sold at the
rate of eighteen seer for the rupee. Sixteen seer, or thirty-two pounds
of goor are obtained from one maund of cane (eighty pounds).
“In the foreground of the sketch are three heaps of sugar-cane, cut into
pieces of six or eight inches long, ready to be supplied to the mill. A
native carries the pieces of sugar-cane in a basket, and charges the
mill by occasional supplies, as represented in the drawing; and he also
takes out the bruised cane, from which the juice has been sufficiently
expressed, and carries it to the hut, to assist, with a mixture of
oplā (dried cow-dung) in making the fire for the boiling process. The
sugar-cane is slightly wetted when put into the mill, about two pints
of water being used to moisten about eighty pounds’ weight of it. The
goor is purchased by the sugar-refiner, who dissolves and refines it
again in the process of making sugar. But goor is also used for several
purposes,—as in preparing tobacco for smoking, and by masons, to mix with
lime in forming hard cements for floors, terraces, baths, &c., for which
the Indian masons are celebrated.
It is impossible to contemplate the scene in the drawing without being
struck with the strong contrast it bears to any mechanical process
in our own country. The sketch was taken from life, and there was a
quietude and apathy in all the persons engaged, which was remarkable:
even the bullocks are urged round at a very slow pace, hardly two miles
an hour, by the voice, more than by the short whip occasionally used by
the driver. Thus it is ever in climates where the necessaries of life,
shelter, food, and clothing are cheap, and easily procured; in more
severe climates the expenses attendant on the social state call forth the
more active energies of human nature. ‘God gives sugar to him who eats
sugar[53],’—_i.e._ He provides for His creatures in proportion to their
wants.”