WESTERN INDIA.
There is so much of interest in India that I find it difficult to
condense all that I desire to say into the space which it seems
proper to devote to this country. In speaking of the various cities,
I have been compelled to omit reference to the numerous industries
for which India is famed. Long before the European set foot upon
the soil the artisans had won renown in weaving, in carving and in
brass. It was, in fact, the very wealth of Indus that attracted the
attention of the western world and turned the prows of merchant
vessels toward the Orient. While India can complain that some of
her arts have been lost since she has been under the tutelage of
foreigners, enough remains to make every tourist a collector, to a
greater or less extent, of attractive souvenirs.
Benares is the center of the plain brass manufacture, and her
bazaars are full of vases, trays, candlesticks, bowls, etc. Lucknow
is noted for her silversmiths, but her products do not command so
high a price as those of southern India. Delhi leads in ivory and
wood carving, and one can find here the best specimens of this kind
of work. Several of the addresses presented to the Prince of Wales
upon his recent visit were encased in ivory caskets richly carved
and studded with gems. Painting on ivory is also carried to a high
state of perfection here, and sandalwood boxes can be found in all
the stores.
At Agra one finds rugs woven in Turkish and Persian, as well as in
original, designs. Agra is also renowned for its inlaid work, many
of the designs of the Taj being copied. The Tag itself is reproduced
in miniatures at prices ranging from one dollar up into the hundreds.
In all the cities of upper India, Kashmir shawls may be secured,
Kashmir itself being far north of the line of travel. These shawls
are of goat's hair, and some of them are so delicate that though two
yards square, they can be drawn through a finger ring.
At Jaipore the chief industries which attract the attention of
foreigners are enameling on gold and brass, the latter being the
best known. Few who visit the bazaars can resist the temptation to
carry away some samples of this ware, so graceful are the vessels
and so skillful is the workmanship.
Jaipore, the first of the western cities, and the only one of the
native states that we visited, is deserving of some notice, partly
because it gives evidence of considerable advancement and partly
because the government is administered entirely by native officials.
The Maharaja is one of the most distinguished of native princes
and a descendant of the famous Rajput line of kings. He lives in
oriental style, has a number of wives, and elephants, camels and
horses galore. He is an orthodox Hindu of the strictest type and
drinks no water but the water of the Ganges. When he went to England
to attend the coronation, he chartered a ship, took his retinue
with him and carried Ganges water enough to last until his return.
He is very loyal to the British government and in return he is
permitted to exercise over his subjects a power as absolute as the
czar ever claimed. There is an English resident at his capital,
but his council is composed of Indians, his judges are Indians,
his collectors are Indians, his school teachers are Indians, and
he has an Indian army. I had the pleasure of meeting one of the
council and the head of the school system of the state, and found
them men of fine appearance and high culture. The illiteracy in
his state compares favorably with that in the states under British
administration, and the graduates from the Maharaja's college
compete successfully in the examinations with the graduates from
other colleges. They have at Jaipore an art school in which all
kinds of manual training are taught, and the sale-room of this
school gives accurate information as to the capacity of the natives
for industrial development. We found here the only native pottery of
merit that we noticed in the country.
The city of Jaipore was laid out in 1728 and is one of the most
attractive cities in India. The main streets are a hundred and ten
feet wide, the buildings are Oriental in style, most of them two
stories in height--some three--and all are painted the same shade of
pink, with white trimmings and green shutters. The entire city is
supplied with water and the streets are lighted by gas. All in all,
Jaipore makes a favorable impression upon the visitor.
Some six miles away is the ancient city of Amber, the capital of
the state until Jaipore was established. It is reached by a ride
on elephant back, the only ride of this kind that we have yet had.
There is a beautiful palace at Amber which gives some idea of the
luxury in which the Indian rulers lived. We returned from this trip
late in the evening when the peacocks were going to roost, and
nearly every tree contained one or more of these gaudy-plumaged
fowls. These were apparently wild, and their numbers and beauty
recalled the fact that the peacock is India's royal bird; and it
is not an inappropriate symbol of the pomp and magnificence of the
Oriental kings. I might digress here to say that the respect for
life taught in the Hindu scriptures has filled India to excess with
useless birds and animals. The crows and kites are a nuisance. It is
no uncommon thing to see a vendor of cakes and sweetmeats bearing
his basket on his head and waving a stick above it to scare off the
birds. Sometimes an attendant follows the vendor and protects him
from the birds, but in spite of all precautions they get their toll.
The crows often come to the doors and windows of the hotels and
inquire whether you have any food to spare, and sparrows and other
small birds occasionally glean crumbs from the table. At Jaipore we
saw myriads of pigeons being fed in the streets, and monkeys--they
are everywhere. The jungles of the tropical countries are not more
thronged with them than the road sides of some parts of India. About
half way between Jaipore and Bombay they were especially numerous,
and as we rode along on the train we saw them singly, in groups and
in mass meetings. Here, too, we saw herds of antelope, scarcely
frightened by the train. Attention has frequently been called to the
fact that the Hindu's aversion to meat has a bearing upon the famine
question, millions of cattle dying of starvation which, if killed
earlier, might have saved thousands of human beings from starving.
[Illustration: STREET IN JAIPORE--INDIA]
A night's ride from Jaipore brought us to Abu Road, from which
by pony carts, called tongas, we ascended to Mt. Abu, sixteen
miles away. The journey is made over a well kept mountain road
which climbs to a height of about five thousand feet. While this
mountain resort draws many Europeans because of its altitude, two
famous Jain temples are the lodestone that attracts tourists.
These temples were built by merchant princes in the eleventh and
twelfth centuries, and the fact that one of them cost more than
five millions of dollars, shows that trade had reached a commanding
position in those days. One of the temples was built by two brothers
and the guide tells of a tradition that these brothers, tiring of
their money, decided to bury it, but on digging in the earth they
found more, and considering it a gift from the gods, built this
temple. The buildings are not large, and seen from the outside are
disappointing, but once within one marvels at the richness of the
carving. The pillars and vaulted ceilings are of the purest white
marble, brought from no one knows where, and every inch of the
surface is covered with figures of gods, human beings, animals,
fowls and flowers. The artists utilized the things with which
the people were most familiar. Here a frieze of elephant heads,
the trunks joined, there a frieze of geese, another of tigers or
monkeys. In one dome maidens danced; in another warriors fought; in
a third flowers bloomed. The variety is endless and the workmanship
perfect. While the panels and friezes and ceilings differ so
much from each other, the arrangement is such that they do not
seem incongruous, but form a harmonious whole. The Mohammedan
conquerors mutilated some of the figures because of their hatred of
idolatry, and when, under Lord Curzon's administration, the work of
restoration was begun, it was impossible to find marble like the
original.
Around these temples are numerous shrines, each containing a seated
figure very much resembling Buddha. The Jains are a sect of the
Hindus, and their temples are renowned for their beauty. This temple
is visited by a large number of pilgrims every year, some of whom
were chanting their prayers while we were there.
Another night's ride and we were in Bombay, and what a luxury to
find a hotel constructed upon the American plan. The Taj Mahal is
the finest hotel in the Orient and would be a credit to any city in
our country. It was built by Mr. Tata, a rich Parsee, who planned it
more from public than from private considerations.
We found the plague increasing in virulence, three hundred having
died in the city the day before we arrived. Bombay has suffered
terribly from this scourge, twenty-four per cent having perished
from it in the last few days. Two years ago the American consul,
Hon. William T. Fee, lost his daughter and came near losing his wife
by this dread disease, and two of the European consuls have recently
had to leave their homes because of deaths among their native
servants. With so many dying in a single city (and ten thousand a
week in the entire country), India would seem an unsafe place to
visit, and yet one would not know except for the newspapers that an
epidemic was raging, so little does it affect business or social
life. There is now in use a system of inoculation which promises
to materially lessen the mortality from this disease. A serum is
prepared in which the venom of serpents is the chief ingredient,
and this hypodermically administered has been found almost a
sure preventive. While the physicians are employing this remedy,
the rat-catchers are also busy, and about a thousand rodents are
captured per day, it having been demonstrated that the rat not only
spreads the disease, but carries a flea that imparts it by its bite.
Bombay is the Manchester of India, and the smokestacks of its many
cotton factories give to the city a very business like appearance.
These mills are largely owned by Indians and operated by Indian
capital.
On an island near Bombay is one of the most frequented of the
rock-hewn temples, called the Elephanta Caves. This temple is
chiseled out of the solid rock, great pillars being left to
support the roof. It is about one hundred and thirty feet square
by seventeen in height and contains a number of figures of heroic
size. These figures are carved from the walls and represent various
gods and demons. The Portuguese Christians, several centuries ago,
showed their contempt for these gods of stone by firing their cannon
into the temple. While some of the pillars were battered down and
some of the carvings mutilated, enough now remains to show the
impressiveness of this ancient place of worship.
[Illustration: AN AMERICAN MAID IN PARSEE COSTUME.]
No one can visit Bombay without becoming interested in a religious
sect, the members of which are known as Parsees. They are few in
number, probably not exceeding a hundred thousand in the world, more
than half of whom live in or near Bombay. Theirs is the religion of
Zoroaster, and they contest with the Hebrews the honor of being the
first believers in one God. Their sacred books, the Zend-Avesta, are
very ancient, and the origin of their religion is placed anywhere
from seven hundred B. C. to three thousand B. C. They not only
believe in one God, but they believe in immortality and claim to
have impressed their ideas upon the Israelites when the latter
were in bondage in Babylon. The Parsees see in the world, as well
as in the human being, a continuing conflict between right and
wrong, and they regulate their conduct by a high ethical system.
When the Moslems swept over Persia and made it one of the stars in
Islam's crown, a band of Parsees preferred migration to conversion,
and, like our pilgrim fathers, sought a home in a new country. In
Bombay they have preserved their identity for some nine centuries
and have made themselves a potent influence in every department of
the city's activity. They have their marriage ceremony, their fire
temples and their funeral rites. They have sometimes been called
fire worshipers and sun worshipers, but they simply regard fire as
the purest thing known and therefore accept it as a symbol of the
invisible god. Fire is kept burning in their temples, and when a
new temple is to be dedicated, fire is collected from the homes of
persons engaged in the principal industries and occupations, and
this mingled fire is used to kindle another fire and this new fire
another until the ninth fire is lighted, and this becomes the altar
fire. Each fire is kindled without coming in contact with the former
one.
[Illustration: MAHARAJA--JAIPORE.]
[Illustration: MOHAMMEDAN LADY, BOMBAY.]
The Parsees have a peculiar form of burial, which has come down
from prehistoric times. On Malabar Hill in the suburbs of Bombay,
overlooking the sea, in the midst of a beautiful garden, are their
Towers of Silence. These are large circular buildings twenty-five or
thirty feet high and without a roof. Within the wall is a circular
platform sloping downward to a well in the center. When a Parsee
dies he is prepared for burial and borne to this garden. After the
last rites have been performed and the relatives and friends have
taken their farewell, the body is carried within the tower by men
appointed for the purpose and placed naked upon this platform.
As soon as the corpse bearers depart, the waiting vultures (of
which several hundred make their home in the garden) swoop down
upon it and do not rise until the bones are bare. The skeletons,
sun-bleached, are washed by the rains into the pit in the center,
where rich and poor, conspicuous and obscure, mingle their dust
together. Every sanitary precaution is taken and a fixed rate of
five rupees is charged to all alike, the money being advanced from
a burial fund where the family can not afford to bear the expense.
The Parsees of Bombay, though they wear a dress peculiar to
themselves, are of all the Indians most like the Europeans and
Americans. We were in one Parsee home, and the furniture, the
pictures and the library were such as would be found in the average
home in our country. Statistics show that the percentage of
education among the Parsees is very much higher than among any other
class of inhabitants, and the women share the educational advantages
with the men.
[Illustration: ELEPHANT PARADE.]
The well-to-do Parsees have been conspicuous in philanthropy,
endowing colleges, hospitals and other charities. While they are
counted among the staunchest friends of British rule, they are also
among the most intelligent critics of the government's faults. Sir
Pherosha M. Mehta, the leading Parsee orator, is prominent in the
national congress movement. At a reception given at the hotel, and
on other occasions, we had an opportunity to meet a number of the
Parsees, men and women, priests and laymen, and found them abreast
with the times and alive to the problems with which the world is
wrestling to-day.
I cannot close this article without mentioning the increasing
presence of American influence in Bombay. An American minister, Dr.
Mell, is pastor of the principal Methodist church, and the American
Congregationalists have a largely attended school for boys and girls
in the city. Many of the students were taken from famine-stricken
homes and are being educated with American money. There is also here
a school for the blind under American management, where the students
are not only taught to read and write, but trained in the industries
for which they are fitted.
I do not apologize for mentioning from time to time the institutions
which altruistic Americans have scattered over the Orient. If we
can not boast that the sun never sets on American territory, we can
find satisfaction in the fact that the sun never sets on American
philanthropy; if the boom of our cannon does not follow the Orb
of Day in his daily round, the grateful thanks of those who have
been the beneficiaries of American generosity form a chorus that
encircles the globe.
[Illustration: ASSEMBLING FOR THE BOMBAY MEETING. (SEE PAGE 474)]