RESIDENCE AT CAWNPORE.
1830.—The iron-shod lāthī—Coins of Sekunder al Sāni—Hindostanī
Song—The first Thermantidote—Dāk to Cawnpore—The
Barkandāz—The Station Sand-storm—Indian method of washing the
hair—Pukka houses and bungalows—The Ayha’s revenge—Horses
poisoned—The Isle of France—The visionary old man—Influence
of women in India—Gambling—Eating the air—The Ayha’s
trowsers—Darzees—Refuge of the distressed—Signet-rings—The
Durwān—Ganges water—Small-pox—Grass-cutters—Beauty of a night
in India—Forgery—Qui hy?—Winged ants and bugs—The moon—A
set-to—Revenge of a sā’īs—Soldiers in hospital—Arrak—The
Chārpāī—A new servant—Unpopularity of the Governor-general.
_1830, March._—The natives use a very dangerous weapon, which they have
been forbidden by the Government to carry. I took one as a curiosity,
which had been seized on a man in a fight in a village. It is a very
heavy lāthī, a solid male bamboo, five feet five inches long, headed
with iron in a most formidable manner. The man was brought before the
judge for murder, and this lāthī was the weapon with which two men were
supposed to have lost their lives. There are six jagged semicircular
irons at the top, each two inches in length, one in height; and it is
shod with iron bands sixteen inches deep from the top; diameter of the
iron ornament on the top, six inches. Sticks headed with brass put on in
the same fashion, are often carried by the native servants for protection
when returning to their homes at night[52].
During my stay at the house of the judge at Futtehpore, he allowed me
to purchase some coins from the office, which are very curious. I took
four of them; they are of fine silver, rather larger and heavier than the
common rupee. About 125 of these coins were found by some children in a
field five miles from Kurrah, in _August_, 1829, buried in an earthen
pot. The letters are in the Arabic character, and the date corresponds
with A.D. 1313, being 516 years ago. The greater part of the coins are
perfectly bright, and look quite new; between the letters, the spaces are
filled with the fine white sand in which they were buried.
On one side of the coin is written in Arabic,—fig 2,
“Sekunder al Sāni[53], illuminating the state, Commander of
the Faithful.”
On the other side,—fig. 1,
“The mighty Sultan, glory of the world and of religion,
The victorious Mahmood Shāh, the Imperial.”
Round the edge of the coin is written,—fig. 3,
“This silver deposited in a ditch in the year 3 and 10 and 700.”
I brought the coins to England. The above translation of the Arabic is by
the munshī of the office. At the bottom of the plate entitled “Hindostanī
Song,” is a copy of the Arabic inscription, written from the coins by the
same munshī[54].
The Hindostanī song, written in the Persian character, may amuse the dear
friends around the hearth of my childhood’s home; and the translation
into Hindostanī is annexed, lest errors may have occurred either in the
written character or in putting it on stone: the oriental scholar is
requested to draw the veil of kindness over any incorrectness in the
Persian caligraphy of a poor hàjī in search of the picturesque.
HINDOSTANI SONG.
Transcriber’s Note: In the image, the second word of the first
line appears as حان. In the transcription, it has been corrected
to جان.
[Illustration:
ميري جان کہيں ديکھا کمپني نشان
بانکي ليک نے مار ليو ہندوستان
ميري جان کہيں ديکھا کمپني نشان
لال لال کورتي قوي جوان
ہاتھ ميں پتھرکلا پيٹھ پر توسدان
ميري جان کہيں ديکھا کمپني نشان
آگے آگے پلٹن پيچھے پيچھے سوار
توپ کي دنکار سے بھاگے ہندو مسلمان
ميري جان کہيں ديکھا کمپني نشان
دس دس کمپني جن ميں گورے گورے کپتان
گڈامي فير بولتے نکل جاوے اوسان
ميري جان کہيں ديکھا کمپني نشان
HINDOSTĀNI SONG. فاني پارکس
SEKUNDER AL SANI
1
السلطان الاعظم
علاء الدنيا والدين
ابو المظفر محمد شاہ
السلطان
2
سکندر الثاني
منير الخلافة ناصر
امير المومنين
3
هذه الفضة مجفرة رهين سنة ثلاث عشر و سبعمائة]
“Mere jan khyn dekha Company neshān
Bankee Leek ne marlēō Hindostān
Mere jan khyn dekha Company neshān.
Lall, lall kourtee koēē jawān
Hart min Putter kullee, pet per tosdān
Mere jan khyn dekha Company neshān.
Agi, agi, Pultān, peche peche sowār
Top ke dunkar se baghe Hindoo Musulmān
Mere jan khyn dekha Company neshān.
Dūs dus Company jin min goree goree Captān
Godamee fire bolte, nikul jaōē aōūsān
Mere jan khyn dekha Company neshān.”
_March 29th._—My husband proceeded dāk to Cawnpore, to take charge of
his appointment and to engage a house, leaving me with my friends. On
one stage of the road he had such a set of coolies, instead of bearers,
to his pālkee, that they could not continue to carry it—at last, setting
it down, they all ran away, and he had to wait six hours on the road
until other bearers came: as this happened during the night, it was of no
further consequence than making the latter part of his dāk very hot, as
he did not reach his destination until 11 A.M. The bearers on this road
are proverbially bad.
Here I saw the first thermantidote, and took a sketch of it, in order to
make one for myself. Here, also, I saw the first alligator, a snub-nosed
fellow, which was caught in the Jumna, and sent up on a chārpāī. Mr. W⸺
had the kindness to give me skulls of alligators, crocodiles, hyenas, and
tigers beautifully prepared, to add to my cabinet of curiosities.
Collecting Persian and Hindostanī proverbs and sayings, and having them
cut on seals, was another of my amusements.
_April 19th._—This day brought a letter, saying a good bungalow had at
length been procured, and I started dāk the next day. The judge, that I
might meet with no adventures on the road, gave me a guard, which was
relieved at the different chaukees, police stations.
[Illustration: A BARKANDĀZ.
فاني پارکس]
A barkandāz, or policeman, and two chaukidārs (watchmen) ran by the side
of my palanquin all the way; in consequence I was not detained one
moment more than necessary on the road. One of the barkandāz was armed
with _two_ swords and a great bamboo!
THE BARKANDĀZ.
A man of this description is too picturesque a personage to be omitted.
The annexed portrait was taken by S. Mahumud Ameer; it represents a
policeman in Calcutta with his sword, shield, and small-arms: the style
of the turban and the dress altogether is remarkable; on the leathern
band across his shoulder is the chaprās, or badge of the station to which
he belongs.
The shield is generally of black leather adorned with brass knobs. Native
gentlemen have shields well painted, sometimes bearing the portrait of
some native lady, and richly ornamented with silver. We purchased a
shield of the hide of the rhinoceros at the fair at Allahabad; there
are numerous indentations upon it, the marks of bullets, which appear
to have been turned off by the thickness and strength of the hide. My
husband used to cut it up to leather the tips of billiard cues—therefore
I carried it off, and added it to my museum.
The journey was very unpleasant, very hot, and not a breath of air.
The dust from the trampling of the bearers’ feet rolled up in clouds,
filling my eyes and mouth, and powdering my hair; and my little terrier,
Fairy Poppus, as the natives call her, in imitation of my “Fury, pup,
pup,” was very troublesome in the pālkee.
I arrived at Cawnpore at 7 A.M., and was glad to take shelter in my new
house, which I found very cool and pleasant, after a hot drive during the
last stage in a buggy.
The house, or rather bungalow[55], for it is tiled over a thatch, is
situated in the centre of the station, near the theatre; it stands on a
platform of stone rising out of the Ganges, which flows below and washes
the walls. The station is a very large one: besides the gentlemen of the
Civil Service, there are the artillery, the eleventh dragoons, the fourth
cavalry, and three or four regiments of infantry.
The work of this day began by what is really an operation in India, and
constantly repeated, that is, washing the hair. My ayha understood it
remarkably well; for the benefit of those ladies having beautiful tresses
in the East, I give the receipt[56].
_June 9th._—The deaths are numerous in our farm-yard; in such weather
it is a matter of surprise that any thing can exist. At 4 P.M. the
thermometer outside the verandah, in the sun, stood at 130°; in the
shade, at 110°! From this time to the end of August we lost 280 Guinea
fowls from vertigo, and three calves also died.
A storm is raging: it arose in clouds of dust, which, sweeping over
the river from the Lucnow side, blow directly on the windows of the
drawing-room; they are all fastened, and a man at every one of them,
or the violence of the wind would burst them open; my mouth and eyes
are full of fine sand; I can scarcely write;—not a drop of rain, only
the high wind, and the clouds of dust so thick we cannot see across the
verandah. I feel rather afraid lest some part of the house, which is not
in good repair, should give way if it continue to blow in such gusts.
This bay-windowed room feels the whole force of the tufān, which is the
heaviest I have seen. In Calcutta we had severe storms, with thunder
and lightning; here, nothing but clouds of sand—reaching from earth to
heaven—with a hot yellow tinge, shutting out the view entirely. The storm
has blown for an hour, and is beginning to clear off; I can just see the
little white-crested waves on the river beneath the verandah.
In the open air the thermometer stands at 130°; in the drawing-room,
with three tattīs up, at 88°. The heat is too oppressive to admit of an
evening drive.
A high caste and religious native gentleman, Shah Kubbeer-oo-deen Ahmud,
requested to be allowed to play at chess with me; the natives are
passionately fond of the game, which is remarkable, as chess was one
of the games forbidden by the prophet. On the arrival of my opponent, I
recognized the native gentleman who had entertained me with fireworks
at Sahseram. I have spoken of him as of _high caste_—that term is only
correct when applied to an Hindoo, Musulmāns have no distinction of caste.
_14th._—A tufān, a sand storm, or rather a storm of sand and dust, is now
blowing; indeed, a little while ago the darkness was so great from that
cause, I was obliged to leave off writing, being unable to distinguish
the letters.
The Ganges opposite Cawnpore is about three miles in breadth; and,
at this season, the water being low, the natives cultivate melons,
cucumbers, wheat, &c., on the islands in the centre of the stream; some
of the melons are delicious, remarkably fragrant, and very cheap. During
the rains the islands are entirely under water, and the river, when there
is a breeze, swells into waves like a little sea.
If a house has a flat roof covered with flag-stones and mortar, it is
called a pukka house; if the roof be raised and it be thatched, it
is called a bungalow; the latter are generally supposed to be cooler
than the pukka houses. The rooms of our house are lofty and good; the
dining-room forty feet by twenty-eight, the swimming-bath thirty feet by
twenty-one, and all the other rooms on a suitable scale. There is a fine
garden belonging to and surrounding the house, having two good wells,
coach-house, stables, cow-house, &c. In India the kitchen and all the
servants’ offices are detached from the dwelling on account of the heat.
We pay 150 rupees a month, about 150 guineas per annum, a heavy rent for
an up-country house: the houses are always let unfurnished.
Very fine white grapes are now selling at fourpence-halfpenny per pound.
Cawnpore is famous for its fruit-gardens.
The natives are curious people! My ayha, a Musulmāne, asked me to allow
her to go to a dinner-party given by some khidmatgārs, friends of hers;
and on her return, she said to me, “Mem sāhiba, we have had a very fine
khānā (dinner), and plenty to eat—I am quite full;” patting her body with
great glee, “but we have had a great quarrel.” She then explained that
at a native feast every guest sits down in a circle, or in a line, and
before each person a freshly gathered leaf is placed as a plate; then the
giver of the feast comes round, and puts an equal portion of curry and
rice before each guest. When all have been helped, they start fair—and,
in general, the host refills all the plates. It sometimes happens that
some of the guests eat so fast they get a greater share than the others,
this puts the rest into a rage, and they quietly vent their spite by
slyly cutting holes in the clothes worn by the great eaters. It happened
at this feast that my ayha sat next a man who was helped three times, and
I suspect she cut holes in his attire, which caused the disturbance.
During this month of June we have lost two very fine grey
carriage-horses, the first we have lost during a residence of nearly
eight years in India; they have been poisoned by the grass-cutters for
the sake of their skins, each skin being worth about six rupees. The
first stage out of Cawnpore is famous as a place where horses die on
their march, and hides are there procurable for tanning. The poison is
made into small balls, scarcely larger than pills, which are thrown into
the manger, or into the grass. In the evening I observed about twenty
natives surrounding the entrance-gates, who had come in the hope of
carrying the carcase away, to sell the hide, and to feast themselves upon
the flesh, for the people of the Jullah or Doom caste eat carrion. They
were disappointed in their hope of a repast; we had the horse put into a
boat, and sunk in the Ganges.
_Extract from the Letter of a Friend Homeward-bound._
_June._—“After leaving the Sandheads we were obliged to put
into Trincomalee, Ceylon, in consequence of an accident to the
chain-cable, and having sprung a leak. We put to sea again,
but the leak was as bad as before whenever the sea made the
vessel pitch; fortunately, we reached the Isle of France, March
19th, and were in quarantine three days and a half. On landing
I thought I had never seen a dirtier place nor filthier people
than Port Louis and its inhabitants. And now I will tell you an
odd story.
“There is an old French soldier living on this island, who
has the power of seeing in the clouds the reflections of
approaching ships, and this when the ships are at the distance
of 300 or 400 miles. Three days before we came in, he made his
public report at the proper office that five ships and three
brigs were approaching the island, pointing out the different
directions in which they lay. The exact number and description
of vessels, of which our ship, the Lady Flora, was one, came
in; we were the first at anchor, and the others came in during
the day of our arrival and the next. At the time he reported
seeing us, we must have been at least 350 miles from the
island. The old man died suddenly the day after our arrival. He
was an European, born in France, and had been thirty-six years
on this island. Buonaparte made him liberal offers to go home
to France, but he would not—as he said that it was only in a
particular atmosphere, such as that round this island, that he
could exert his singular faculty. The old man used to lie or
sit nearly all day, with a telescope in his hand, looking at
the clouds all round the island. He foretold the number and
description of ships when the British expedition to this island
was approaching, and, as I understand, quite correctly.
“Once he reported that there were either two brigs lashed
together, or a four-masted ship coming to the island; and this
turned out to be a large 1200 ton ship, which had lost all her
masts in a storm, and had put up four temporary spars to supply
the place of masts. The reflection, therefore, in the clouds
must have been very correct. And surely the power of seeing
these reflections is not confined to one individual, but many
have the power of vision equal to this man’s, if they had the
patience and time to make the trial.”
My friend spoke with great pleasure of the kindness he received from
the governor of the island, during his stay at Reduit; and in raptures
of a most beautiful waterfall. The thermometer at Reduit was only 75°,
the elevation above the sea being 1200 feet. He says; “The island is an
unhealthy place for animals; out of 212 Java ponies that arrived here two
months before, fifty or sixty are dead.”
How much I like the description of the visionary life the old man led,
lying idly on the shore and gazing on the clouds! It brought to memory
the happy days I formerly passed on the western shore of Hampshire,
seeing or fancying the most beautiful visions in the clouds, whilst I
listened to the sweet monotony of the waves—
“I may not muse—I must not dream—
Too beautiful those visions seem
For earth or mortal man; but when
Shall by-past times come back again?”
Women have more influence over men in India than in any other country.
All out-door amusements are nearly denied to the latter by the climate,
unless before sunrise or after sunset; therefore the whole time of
military men, generally speaking, is spent in the house, devoted
either to music or drawing, which of course they prefer in the society
of ladies, or in the study of the languages, or in gaming. The young
officers at this station play exceedingly high, ruinously so—two guinea
points at short whist, and 100 guineas on the rubber, is not unusual
amongst the young men.
Happily the gentlemen in the Civil Service have too much employment to
admit of their devoting their time to gambling.
If you ask a native—“Where is your master gone?” if the gentleman be from
home, you are sure to receive the answer—“Howā khānā-ke-wāste” (to eat
the air); this chamelion-like propensity of eating the air is always the
object during the early morning ride and the evening drive.
Our servants at present only amount to fifty-four, and I find it quite
difficult enough to keep them in order; they quarrel amongst themselves,
and when they become quite outrageous, they demand their discharge.
My ayha and the ābdār had a laughable quarrel. She was making herself a
pair of Europe Chintz pajamas (trousers) such as they usually wear, made
very full round the body, and quite tight from the knee to the ancle.
Musulmāne women never wear a petticoat when amongst themselves; it is
the badge of servitude, and put on to please European ladies; the moment
an ayha gets into her own house, she takes off her full petticoat and
the large white mantle (chādar) that covers her head and the upper part
of her body, and walks about in the curiously shaped trousers I have
described, with a sort of loose jacket of muslin over the upper part,
beneath which is the angiya.
The ayha was sitting on her chārpāī (native bed) working away with great
eagerness, when her friend the ābdār advised her to make the trousers
full to the ankle; and she came to me to give warning to quit my service,
vowing revenge upon the ābdār, because nāch women wear trousers of that
description. The old ābdār, Sheik-jee, was sitting down very quietly
making chapāties (flour-cakes), and smoking his narjil (cocoa-nut shell
hooqŭ) at intervals, enjoying the ayha’s anger, until she stood up, and,
screaming with passion, gave him gālee (abuse); he then flew into a rage,
and I had some trouble to restore peace and quietness. Natives seldom,
indeed hardly ever, come to blows, but they will go on for hours abusing
each other in the grossest language, screaming out their words from
passion.
A darzee (tailor) is an Indian luxury: they work beautifully—as strongly
and finely as the French milliners; they have great patience—because
they are paid by the month, and not by the piece. In Calcutta I found my
tailors great thieves—knives, scissors, seals—they would steal anything.
One man carried off a present I had just received, a necklace and
bracelets of a very curious pattern, and a box full of polished pebbles,
in sets, from the Soane river.
Bishop Heber, who did not understand native character, and possessed much
simplicity, was surprised when the up-country natives thus addressed
him: “Defender of the poor, peace be unto you! Refuge of the distressed,
sālāmut[57]!” and imagined it was from respect to his holy office. I was
playing with the son of the judge, a little fellow of two years old; the
child offered to shake hands, and presented his left hand—his native
attendant, shocked at what he considered an insult, desired him to give
the right hand; the child did so, when the chaprāsī cried out with great
pleasure, “Well done! well done! Refuge of the distressed! defender of
the poor!”
Ram Din, the man mentioned in Chapter XI., was a Rājput sipahī in the
Company’s service, from which, after twelve years’ service, he obtained
his discharge; he was in many engagements. In Calcutta the man came
to us, and, making salām, presented his chitthīs (written vouchers of
conduct), saying; “Refuge of the distressed, having heard of your great
name, I am present to offer my services; I have served the Company
faithfully twelve years, I will serve you faithfully.” He was a fine
native, about six feet high or upwards; he lived with us many years,
and had always charge of the boats or the tents when we moved about the
country.
A native is very fond of wearing a plain silver ring on the little
finger, with a stone on the top, on which is engraved his own name, and
sometimes that of the god he particularly worships, if the man be an
Hindoo. They usually stamp any petition they may have to send to any
gentleman with it, by putting Hindostanī ink on the seal, wetting the
paper, and pressing the seal down upon it[58].
On the signet-ring of the Rājput above mentioned was “Ram Din Mahādēo.”
The engraver invariably puts the date of the year on the corner of
the stone, unless it be expressly forbidden. Engraved on the ruby of
a signet-ring, brought to me from Persia, was “Allah, Muhammad, Ali,
Fatima, Hussen, Hossein[59].”
THE DURWĀN.
What happy wretches the natives are! A man who gets two annas a day
(fourpence), can find himself in food, clothing, house, silver finery
for his person, and support his wife and children also. My ayha in
Calcutta, who received eleven rupees a month, refused any longer to dine
with her dear friend the durwān, because, as she expressed it, he was
so extravagant and such a glutton he would eat as much as one rupee
and a half or two rupees a month; and, as she herself never ate more
than one rupee per month, she would no longer go shares in his expenses.
The durwān lives at the entrance-gates of his master’s house, and is
always in attendance to open them; his wages are usually five rupees a
month; and he is always on the watch that nothing may be carried away
clandestinely. The man, whose portrait is annexed, bears the marks of
his caste in three yellow horizontal lines above the red circle on his
forehead; around his neck are two strings of the beads called mandrasee,
as represented by Fig. 9, in the sketch entitled “Jugunnath.” Large heavy
rings of silver are on his arms, and the bracelet is also of silver.
[Illustration: THE DURWAN.
فاني پارکس]
The durwāns are very fond of brilliant colours, and are generally well
dressed; their food consists principally of curry made of kid, fish,
chicken, prawns, or vegetables, with a great quantity of Patna rice
boiled to perfection, every grain separate, and beautifully white. My
ayha brought me one day a vegetable curry of her own making, to show me
the food on which she lived with her friend the durwān; it would have
been excellent, had it not been made with moota tel, _i.e._ mustard oil.
_16th_.—The native boys whom I see swimming and sporting in the river of
an evening, are much better off than the poor people in England. I wish
we had some of them here, on whom to bestow a fine cold saddle of mutton.
A round of beef would be of importance to them. You may imagine how much
must be thrown away, when you cannot with the greatest care, at this
season, keep meat good for more than twenty-four hours; and roasted meat
will only keep until the next day.
In Calcutta, the tank water being unwholesome to drink, it is necessary
to catch rain water, and preserve it in great jars; sixty jars full
will last a year in our family. It is purified with alum, and a heated
iron is put into it. Here we drink the Ganges water, reckoned the most
wholesome in India; it is purified in jars in the same manner. The water
of the Jumna is considered unwholesome, and in some parts, my old ābdār
declares, it is absolutely poisonous.
We were glad to quit Allahabad, the small-pox having commenced its
ravages at that station. On our arrival at Cawnpore, we found it raging
still worse; the magistrate took it, and died in three days. Hundreds of
children are ill of this disease in the bazār; and the government, in
their humanity, have done away with the vaccine department here. Surely
it is a cruel act, where there are so many regiments and so many European
children, who cannot now be vaccinated. It is very severe, and numbers of
adults have been attacked.
In India wax candles are always burned. A bearer will not touch a mould
because they say it is made of pig’s fat. We burn spermaceti generally.
The first time the bearers saw them, they would not touch the spermaceti,
and I had great difficulty in persuading them the candles were made from
the fat of a great fish. Some bearers in Calcutta will not snuff a candle
if it be on the dinner-table, but a khidmatgār having put it on the
ground, the bearer will snuff it, when the other man replaces it. In the
upper provinces they are not so particular.
One of the grass-cutters has been sent to the hospital, dying, I fear, of
fever. Every horse has a sā’īs (groom) and a grass-cutter allowed him:
the latter goes out every morning, perhaps some four or five miles, cuts
a bundle of grass, and brings it home on his head. The men are exposed
to the sun so much, and live so badly, it is no wonder they fall ill of
fever; besides which, they are extremely fond of arrak (bazār spirits).
Wine they delight in: when the empty bottles are carried from the house
to the godown, the grass-cutters often petition to have the dregs of the
wine. They pour off into their lotas (brass drinking cups) the remains of
all the bottles, mixing beer, sherry, claret, vinegar, hock, champagne,
in fact, any thing of which they can find a drop; and then, sitting down,
each man drinks a portion and passes the cup to his neighbour, often
saying “Bahut achchhā, bahut achchhā,” very good, very good, and eagerly
looking out for his turn again, and fair play.
I have several times made them put this vile mixture away for another
day, or they would have drunk it until the whole was finished.
_21st._—Finding the night very oppressive, I quitted my chārpāī, and
putting on a cambric dressing-gown and slippers, went out on the platform
by the river and stayed there an hour, there being a little breeze to
refresh me. You may imagine how dry the air must be; I had no fear of
cold, no want of a shawl, and my light dress was sufficiently warm. It
was as fine a starlight night as I have seen in India. The horses are
sick, burnt up in their stables, which are made on a bad principle; they
feel the want of the large, cool, loose boxes they had at Allahabad.
_August 4th._—It is said, the Earl of C⸺ lost 65,000 rupees a short time
ago, by forgeries committed in Calcutta: the person at the head of the
forgeries was Rajah Buddinath Roy, a native prince in high favour with
Lord Amherst; and I rather imagine his lordship has suffered also by
the Rajah’s forged bills. _On dit_, he used to talk about Christianity
as if _in time_ he might be converted; he subscribed to schools and
missionary societies, and distributed Bibles—the bait took—in return
he was allowed such and such honorary attendance, as by the Company’s
regulations a native may not have without permission. This flattered his
pride, and his seemingly religious disposition secured him from suspicion
falling upon him as a forger, especially of passing forged bills on the
Governor-general. The case is now being tried in Court.
People think of nothing but converting the Hindoos; and religion is
often used as a cloak by the greatest schemers after good appointments.
Religious meetings are held continually in Calcutta, frequented by people
to pray themselves into high salaries, who never thought of praying
before.
In India we use no bells to call servants; but as the chaprāsīs are
always in attendance just without the door, if you want one, you say
“Qui hy?” _i.e._ “is there any one?”—or “Kon hy?”—“who is there?” when a
servant appears. For this reason old Indians are called Qui hys.
_7th._—The plagues of Egypt were not worse than the plagues of India.
Last night the dinner-table was covered with white ants, having wings:
these ants, at a certain period after a shower, rise from the earth with
four large wings. They fly to the lights, and your lamps are put out in a
few minutes by swarms of them: they fall into your plate at dinner, and
over your book when reading, being most troublesome. Last night heavy
rain fell, and the rooms were swarming with winged-ants, which flew in;
their wings fell off almost immediately, verifying the proverb: “When
ants get wings they die[60].”
To-night we are suffering under a more disagreeable infliction; a
quantity of winged-bugs flew in just as dinner was put on the table, the
bamboo screens having been let down rather too late. They are odious;
they fly upon your face and arms, and into your plate; if you brush them
away, they emit such terrible effluvia it is sickening, and yet one
cannot bear them to crawl over one’s body, as one is at this minute doing
on my ear, without pushing them off.
_21st._—There has been a great fire in the Fort of Allahabad, and the
magazine of gunpowder was with difficulty saved. What an explosion it
would have caused had it taken fire!
Oh! how I long for the liberty and freshness of a country life in
England—what would I not give for a fine _bracing_ air, and a walk by the
sea-side, to enable me to shake off this Indian languor, and be myself
again! The moon is so hot to-night, I cannot sit on the Terrace; she
makes my head ache. A chatr (umbrella) is as necessary a defence against
the rays of the moon at the full, as against the sun.
These natives are curious people. Two of our khidmatgārs were looking at
the weather; the one said, “It is a good thing that from the pleasure of
Allah the rain has been stopped; otherwise, so many houses would have
fallen in.” The ābdār answered, “Those are the words of an unbeliever.”
Kaffir ke bat. “You are a Kaffir,” exclaimed the first man, in a great
rage. It being high abuse to use the term, the ābdār took off his shoe
and flung it at the other, on which the first man struck him a good blow
with his fist, which cut his cheek open. Here ended the fight—they were
both frightened at the sight of blood—it is the only instance we have
met with of a native using his fists like an Englishman.
The other affair was this: my sā’īs (groom) had bought some ganja, an
intoxicating herb, which he put into his hooqŭ to smoke, and offered it
to the other sā’īses. To refuse to smoke from an offered hooqŭ, is a
high offence. The sā’īses would not smoke the ganja, abused the man for
buying it, and getting intoxicated daily from its effect. He said, “I
will not stay in service, if you will not smoke with me.” “Well, go and
give warning,” said the head groom. My sā’īs gave him gālee (abuse); at
which the head groom took a stick and beat him. The sā’īs immediately
said, “My life be on your head,” and running to the well, he let himself
drop down into the water; but when at the bottom, he began to halloo for
assistance, the well being very deep, and the water also. He was drawn
up by ropes. I do not think he meant to kill himself; and yet dropping
down such a distance was a great risk. He said, if he had died of the
fall, the head groom would have been hung, and he should thus have had
his revenge. The next time he plays such a prank, he is to remain at the
bottom of the well.
_22nd._—They tell me the people in Calcutta are dying fast from a fever
resembling the yellow fever. The soldiers, European, here are also going
to their graves very quickly; three days ago, six men died; two days ago,
six more expired; and one hundred and sixty are in the hospital. The
fever, which rages, tinges the skin and eyes yellow; perhaps only the
severe bilious fever of India brought on by drinking brandy and arrak, a
bazār spirit extremely injurious, to say nothing of exposure to the sun.
Almost every evening we meet the two elephants belonging to the hospital
carrying each about ten sick men, who are sufficiently recovered to be
able to go out “to eat the air,” and for exercise; the poor fellows
look so wan and ghastly. The sā’īs before-mentioned added the leaves of
hemp (cannabis sativa) to his tobacco, and smoked it to increase its
intoxicating power. Bhang, an intoxicating liquor, is prepared from
the same leaves. Pariah arrak, an inferior sort of spirituous liquor,
is sold extremely cheap, from one to four ānās a quart: it is most
unwholesome, and mixed with most injurious articles to increase its
intoxicating power, such as the juice of the thorn-apple and ganja. There
are many kinds of arrak; that distilled from cocoa-nut toddy is, they
say, the least injurious. Who can be surprised at the number of deaths
that occur amongst men in the habit of drinking this heating and narcotic
spirit, called rack by the soldiers? Flax is grown in great quantities
in India, but is little used for cloth. Taat, which is made from sunn
(hemp), is manufactured into paper. Linseed oil is extracted from the
seed, and the remainder, the cake, is given to cows. The waste land in
our compound (grounds around the house) was covered with thorn-apple
plants. I had them rooted out, leaving only two or three of different
kinds in the garden. Abdārs have been known to administer this plant
(datura) to their masters in the hooqŭ: an over-dose produces delirium.
There are several species of this beautiful plant:
Common datura (Datura stramonium), thorn-apple.
Kala datura (Datura fastuosa), a triple flower of a most beautiful
dark purple.
Suffeid datura (Datura metel), flowers white, hairy thorn-apple.
Another (Datura ferox), flowers yellow.
Ditto (Datura canescens), a variety, flowers always single,
and of a yellowish white colour.
Qualities, intoxicating and narcotic.—The Mahomedans give kala datura
in those violent headaches that precede epilepsy and mania. It produces
vertigo when taken in large doses, and has the effect of dilating in a
singular manner the pupil of the eye. Some writers call it “_Trompette du
jugement_,” and “_Herbe aux sorciers_.” The leaves of the datura ferox
are sometimes used to make arrak more intoxicating: its seeds produce
delirium. Stramonium is an abbreviation of the Greek “Mad apple,” on
account of the dangerous effects of the fruit of that species. Metel is
an Arabic name, and expresses the narcotic effect of the plant.
What can be more wretched than the life of a private soldier in the East?
his profession employs but little of his time. During the heat of the
day, he is forced to remain within the intensely hot barrack-rooms; heat
produces thirst, and idleness discontent. He drinks arrak like a fish,
and soon finds life a burden, almost insupportable. To the man weary
of the burden of existence, to escape from it, transportation appears
a blessing. The great source of all this misery is the cheapness of
arrak mixed with datura, and the restlessness arising from the want of
occupation; although a library is generally provided for the privates by
the regiment.
You at home, who sleep in gay beds of carved mahogany, with handsome
curtains, would be surprised at sight of the beds used by us during
the hot winds. Four small posts, and a frame, on which very broad tape
(newār) is plaited and strained very tight, over this a sītal-pātī, a
sort of fine cool Manilla mat, then the sheets, and for warmth, either
an Indian shawl, or a rezai, which is of silk quilted with cotton, and
very light. We use no musquito curtains, for each chārpāī is placed just
before an open window, with the east wind blowing on it, and a pankhā,
with a deep double frill, is in full swing over the beds all night,
pulled by a string which passes through a hole in the wall—the wind it
creates drives off the musquitoes, and the man who pulls the pankhā is
relieved every two hours.
“A NEW SERVANT WILL CATCH DEER[61].”
A gentleman in the Civil Service had succeeded, after much trouble, in
rearing some very fine strawberry plants, and he visited his garden daily
to admire the blossoms. One day, when he called a chaprāsī, a new man,
a stupid fellow, came into the room; the gentleman would not tell him
what he wanted, but said, “Send another servant to me;” the man went
out, and after some time returned with his hands full of the beautiful
strawberry-blossoms! Had you seen how the countenance of the sāhib fell
when he saw them, you would have laughed as I did. He desired the man to
put his chaprās on the table, and quit his service at once. The gentleman
was an excellent linguist, but the new servant would willingly have
caught deer.
The Governor-general left Calcutta on the 11th inst., and proposes to
be at Benares on the 10th December. Lady William Bentinck accompanies
him in his tour. They say that she is dreadfully nervous about him. His
unpopularity is increasing, and some ill-regulated person, in a moment of
disappointment and frenzy, might perhaps cause a scene. The events of the
last few years, since Mr. Canning’s death, have been astounding. I wonder
if there is more room for amazement. I hope his Grace the Duke will not
take us under his charge. We are satisfied with King Log, provided he
stands in the way of King Stork.
Lord William has been doing away with all the good appointments in the
Civil Service; and the army have been cruelly treated, with respect to
the half-batta. Perhaps, when the renewal of the Charter is concluded,
the Directors will again be enabled to treat those living under their
command with the generosity which has ever distinguished them, and which
has rendered their service one of the finest in the world.