THE CHOLERA.
“IT WAS HAMMERED UPON MY FOREHEAD[106].”
_i.e._ It was my destiny.
“WHERE IS THE USE OF TAKING PRECAUTIONS, SINCE WHAT HAS BEEN PRE-ORDAINED
MUST HAPPEN[107]?”
Hindoo Method of frightening away the Cholera recommended to
the Faculty—Death of the Darzee—Necromancy—The New Moon—A Bull
laden with the Pestilence—Terror of the Natives—The Patān—An
Earthquake—Sola Hats—Importation of Ice from America—Flight of
Locusts—Steam Navigation—The Civil Service Annuity Fund—The
Bāghsira—Rajpūt Encampment—Hail Storm—Delights of the Cold
Weather.
1833. _Aug. 8th._—The same terrible weather continues, the thermometer
90° and 91° all day; not a drop of rain! They prophesy sickness and
famine; the air is unwholesome; the Europeans are all suffering with
fever and ague and rheumatism. The natives, in a dreadful state, are
dying in numbers daily of cholera; two days ago, seventy-six natives in
Allahabad were seized with cholera—of these, forty-eight died that day!
The illness is so severe that half an hour after the first attack the man
generally dies; if he survive one hour it is reckoned a length of time.
A brickmaker, living near our gates, buried four of his family
from cholera in one day! Is not this dreadful? The poor people,
terror-stricken, are afraid of eating their food, as they say the disease
follows a full meal. Since our arrival in India we have never before
experienced such severely hot winds, or such unhealthy rains.
“Every country hath its own fashions[108].” The Hindoo women, in the most
curious manner, propitiate the goddess who brings all this illness into
the bazār: they go out in the evening about 7 P.M., sometimes two or
three hundred at a time, carrying each a lota, or brass vessel, filled
with sugar, water, cloves, &c. In the first place they make pooja; then,
stripping off their chādars, and binding their sole petticoat around
their waists, as high above the knee as it can be pulled up, they perform
a most frantic sort of dance, forming themselves into a circle, whilst in
the centre of the circle about five or six women dance entirely naked,
beating their hands together over their heads, and then applying them
behind with a great smack, that keeps time with the music, and with the
song they scream out all the time, accompanied by native instruments,
played by men who stand at a distance; to the sound of which these women
dance and sing, looking like frantic creatures. Last night, returning
from a drive, passing the Fort, I saw five or six women dancing and
whipping themselves after this fashion; fortunately, my companion did not
comprehend what they were about. The Hindoo women alone practise this
curious method of driving away diseases from the bazār; the Musulmānes
never. The men avoid the spot where the ceremony takes place; but here
and there, one or two men may be seen looking on, whose presence does not
appear to molest the nut-brown dancers in the least; they shriek and sing
and smack and scream most marvellously.
The moonshee tells me the panic amongst the natives is so great, that
they talk of deserting Allahabad until the cholera has passed away.
My darzee (tailor), a fine healthy young Musulmān, went home at 5 P.M.,
apparently quite well; he died of cholera at 3 P.M., the next day; he
had every care and attention. This evening the under-gardener has been
seized; I sent him medicine; he returned it, saying, “I am a Baghut
(a Hindoo who neither eats meat nor drinks wine), I cannot take your
medicine; it were better that I should die.” The cholera came across the
Jumna to the city, thence it took its course up _one side_ of the road to
the Circuit Bungalow, is now in cantonments, and will, I trust, pass on
to Papamhow, cross the Ganges, and Allahabad will once more be a healthy
place.
“Magic is truth, but the magician is an infidel[109].” My ayha said, “You
have told us several times that rain will fall, and your words have been
true; perhaps you can tell us when the cholera will quit the city?” I
told her, “Rain will fall, in all probability, next Thursday (new moon);
and if there be plenty of it, the cholera may quit the city.” She is off
to the bazār with the joyful tidings.
The Muhammadans believe the prayers of those who consult magicians are
not accepted, and that rain is given by the favour of God, not by the
influence of the moon. Muhammad forbade consulting fortune-tellers, and
gave a curious reason why they sometimes hit on the truth. “Aa’yeshah
said, ‘People asked the Prophet about fortune-tellers, whether they
spoke true or not?’ He said, ‘You must not believe any thing they say.’
The people said, ‘O messenger of God! wherefore do you say so? because
they sometimes tell true.’ Then his Highness said, ‘Yes; it may be true
sometimes, because one of the genii steals away the truth, and carries it
to the magician’s ear; and magicians mix a hundred lies with one truth.’
Aa’yeshah said, ‘I heard his Majesty say, ‘The angels come down to the
region next the world, and mention the works that have been pre-ordained
in Heaven; and the devils, who descend to the lowest region, listen to
what the angels say, and hear the orders pre-destined in Heaven, and
carry them to fortune-tellers; therefore they tell a hundred lies with
it from themselves.’ ‘Whoever goes to a magician, and asks him any thing
about the hidden, his prayers will not be approved of for forty nights
and days.’ Zaid-Vin-Rhálid said, ‘His Highness officiated as Imām to us
in Hudaibiah, after a fall of rain in the night; and when he had finished
prayers, he turned himself to the congregation, and said, ‘Do ye know
what your Cherisher said?’ They said, ‘God and his messenger know best.’
His Highness said, ‘God said, Two descriptions of my servants rose this
morning, one of them believers in me, the other infidels; wherefore,
those who have said they have been given rain by the favour of God,
are believers in me, and deniers of stars; and those who have said, we
have been given rain from the influence of the moon, are infidels, and
believers in stars.’” “An astrologer is as a magician, and a magician is
a necromancer, and a necromancer is an infidel[110].”
_Aug. 17th._—The new moon has appeared, but Prāg is unblessed with rain;
if it would but fall! Every night the Hindoos pooja their gods; the
Musulmāns weary Heaven with prayers, at the Jamma Musjid (great mosque)
on the river-side, near our house;—all to no effect. The clouds hang
dark and heavily; the thunder rolls at times; you think, “Now the rain
must come,” but it clears off with scarcely a sprinkling. Amongst the
Europeans there is much illness, but no cholera.
_22nd._—These natives are curious people; they have twice sent the
cholera over the river, to get rid of it at Allahabad. They proceed after
this fashion: they take a bull, and after having repeated divers prayers
and ceremonies, they drive him across the Ganges into Oude, laden, as
they believe, with the cholera. This year this ceremony has been twice
performed. When the people drive the bull into the river, he swims
across, and lands or attempts to land on the Lucnow side; the Oude people
drive the poor beast back again, when he is generally carried down by the
current and drowned, as they will not allow him to land on either side.
During the night, my ayha came to me three times for cholera mixture;
happily the rain was falling, and I thought it would do much more good
than all the medicine; of course I gave her the latter.
Out of sixty deaths there will be forty Hindoos to twenty Musulmāns; more
men are carried off than women, eight men to two women; the Musulmāns eat
more nourishing food than the Hindoos, and the women are less exposed to
the sun than the men.
Extract from the journal of an officer in the 16th Lancers, at Cawnpore:—
“_Aug. 20th._—A most savage and barbarous act was this day committed on
our grand parade; several officers and numbers of sipahīs stood round and
witnessed it. A Patān of high caste, and of such great muscular powers
as to be a celebrated pehlwān or wrestler, was taken up on suspicion of
theft. A barkandāz (native policeman) was sent with the prisoner to his
house, that he might eat his dinner; the Patān endeavoured to enter his
house, when the barkandāz struck him with his shoe on the mouth (the very
grossest insult that can be offered to a native). The prisoner managed to
get his hands loose, ran into a sword cutler’s (sikligur’s), snatched up
the first sword that presented itself, and cut down the barkandāz. The
Patān then ran through the city, crying, ‘Now, who will take me?’ When
he got on the grand parade he halted, and when told that he could easily
escape into the King of Oude’s territories,—‘for what is the Ganges for
such a man as you to swim?’—he answered, ‘No; I cannot live after the
insult I have received; but I will teach those rascally barkandāz how
to insult a Patān.’ He was soon surrounded by numbers of the native
police, variously armed, but he kept them all for a length of time at
defiance; at last, after receiving a great many wounds, and with his left
arm nearly severed, he fell, but still continued fighting desperately;
a musket was now sent for, and the third shot killed this brave fellow.
An officer, who stood by, and saw this brutal murder committed, told me
the prisoner cut down and wounded eleven men, and received upwards of
forty wounds. This outrage was committed in broad daylight, in front of
the sipahī lines. An occurrence of this nature would, I think, make some
little stir in England.”
The same gentleman mentions, “The natives in the bazār and surrounding
villages suffer shockingly from cholera, and you can scarcely go into
any of the thoroughfares to the ghāts, without seeing several dead
bodies being carried to the Ganges. Large groups of women, preceded by
their noisy, inharmonious music, are at all hours proceeding towards the
river, to offer up their supplications to the Gunga. The Brahmans have
forbidden any woman to sleep inside her house, and, I believe, last night
every Hindū woman in the city slept in the open air.”
_26th._—I was sitting in my dressing-room, reading, and thinking of
retiring to rest, when the khānsāmān ran to the door, and cried out,
“Mem Sāhiba, did you feel the earthquake? the dishes and glasses in the
almirahs (wardrobes) are all rattling.” I heard the rumbling noise, but
did not feel the quaking of the earth. About half-past eleven, P.M., a
very severe shock came on, with a loud and rumbling noise; it sounded
at first as if a four-wheeled carriage had driven up to the door, and
then the noise appeared to be just under my feet; my chair and the table
shook visibly, the mirror of the dressing-glass swung forwards, and two
of the doors nearest my chair opened from the shock. The house shook so
much, I felt sick and giddy; I thought I should fall if I were to try to
walk; I called out many times to my husband, but he was asleep on the
sofa in the next room, and heard me not; not liking it at all, I ran into
the next room, and awoke him; as I sat with him on the sofa, it shook
very much from another shock, or rather shocks, for there appeared to
be many of them; and the table trembled also. My ayha came in from the
verandah, and said, “The river is all in motion, in waves, as if a great
wind were blowing against the stream.” The natives say tiles fell from
several houses. A shoeing-horn, that was hanging by a string to the side
of my dressing-glass, swung backwards and forwards like the pendulum of
a clock. The giddy and sick sensation one experiences during the time of
an earthquake is not agreeable; we had one in September, 1831, but it was
nothing in comparison to that we have just experienced. Mr. D⸺ and Mr.
C⸺, who live nearly three miles off, ran out of their bungalows in alarm.
_Sept. 5th._—The rain fell in torrents all night; it was delightful to
listen to it, sounding as it was caught in the great water jars, which
are placed all round the house; now and then a badly made jar cracked
with a loud report, and out rushed the water, a proof that most of the
jars would be full by morning. From the flat clean pukkā roof of the
house the water falls pure and fresh; from the thatch of a bungalow it
would be impure. To-day it is so dark, so damp, so English, not a glimpse
of the sun, a heavy atmosphere, and rain still falling delightfully.
There is but little cholera now left in the city; this rain will carry it
all away.
Our friend Mr. S⸺ arrived yesterday: he was robbed ere he quitted
Jaunpore of almost all he possessed: the thieves carried off all his
property from the bungalow, with the exception of his sola topī, a great
broad-brimmed white hat, made of the pith of the sola.
The best sola hats are made in Calcutta; they are very light, and an
excellent defence from the sun: the root of which the topī is formed is
like pith; it is cut into thin layers, which are pasted together to form
the hat. At Meerut they cover them with the skin of the pelican, with
all its feathers on, which renders it impervious to sun or rain; and the
feathers sticking out beyond the rim of the hat give a demented air to
the wearer. The pelicans are shot in the Tarāī.
“Sholā (commonly sola), (æschynomene paludosa), the wood of which, being
very light and spongy, is used by fishermen for floating their nets. A
variety of toys, such as artificial birds and flowers, are made of it.
Garlands of those flowers are used in marriage ceremonies. When charred
it answers the purpose of tinder[111].”
How dangerous the banks of the river are at this season! Mr. M⸺ lugāoed
his boats under a bank on the Ganges; during the night a great portion
of the bank fell in, swamped the dog-boat, and drowned all the dogs. Our
friend himself narrowly escaped: his budjerow broke from her moorings,
and went off into the middle of the stream.
_19th._—The weather killingly hot! I can do nothing but read novels and
take lessons on the sitar. I wish you could see my instructor, a native,
who is sitting on the ground before me, playing difficult variations,
contorting his face, and twisting his body into the most laughable
attitudes, the man in ecstacies at his own performance!
CONSUMPTION OF ICE.
One of the most striking instances of the enterprise of the merchants of
the present age, is the importation of a cargo of ice into India from the
distant shores of America; and it is to be hoped, that the experiment
having so far succeeded, it will receive sufficient encouragement here
to ensure the community in future a constant supply of the luxury. The
speculators are Messrs. Tudor, Rogers, and Austin, the first of whom has
been engaged for fifteen or twenty years in furnishing supplies of ice to
the southern parts of America and the West Indian islands.
The following particulars will furnish an idea of the plan pursued in
this traffic, and of the cost incurred in it:—
The ice is cut from the surface of some ponds rented for the purpose in
the neighbourhood of Boston, and being properly stowed, is then conveyed
to an ice-house in the city, where it remains until transported on
board the vessel which has to convey it to its destined market. It is
always kept packed in non-conducting materials, such as tan, hay, and
pine boards, and the vessel in which it is freighted has an ice-house
built within, for the purpose of securing it from the effects of the
atmosphere. The expense to the speculators must be very considerable,
when they have to meet the charges of rent for the ponds, wages for
superintendents and labourers, and agents at the place of sale; erection
of ice-houses, transportation of the article from the ponds to the city,
thence to the vessel, freight, packing, and landing, and the delivery of
the article at the ice-house which has been built for it in Calcutta.
The present cargo has arrived without greater wastage than was at first
calculated on, and the packing was so well managed to prevent its being
affected by the atmosphere, that the temperature on board during the
voyage was not perceptibly altered. This large importation of ice may
probably give rise to experiments to ascertain in what way it may be
applied to medicinal uses, as it has already elsewhere been resorted to
for such purposes; but the chief interest the community generally will
take in it, will be the addition it will make to domestic comfort.
_Sept. 23rd._—Yesterday, at 5 P.M., whilst we were at dinner, a flight
of locusts came across the Jumna, from below the fort. The greater part
alighted on our compound: those that did not settle on the ground, flew
round and round in upper air, while thousands of them descending in
streams gave the appearance of a very severe storm of snow falling in
large dingy flakes. The air was really darkened; they settled on the
thatched roofs of the outhouses, covering them entirely. They were so
numerous the whole ground was thickly spread with them. A chaprāsī went
out with my butterfly net, and running against the stream of descending
locusts, at one attempt caught from twenty to thirty in the net; you may
therefore imagine how numerous they were. The bearers ran out, beating
brass chilamchees (washhand basons), while others, with frying-pans and
pokers, increased the din in order to drive them away, which was not
accomplished for half an hour. All the servants, Musalmān and Hindoo,
were eager to catch them; the two washermen (dhobees) showed the greatest
cleverness in the business; holding a sheet spread out between them,
they ran against the flight of descending locusts, caught great numbers,
folded the sheet quickly up to secure their prizes, and having deposited
them in a jar, spread the sheet for more.
My little terrier Fury caught twenty or thirty, if not more, and ate
them raw; it was amusing to see her run at the locusts and catch them so
cleverly.
The gentlemen rose from table, and were well repaid for their trouble,
never having seen such a marvellous flight of locusts before.
The khānsāmān Suddu Khān said, “In curry they are very good, like prawns,
but roasted whole the moment they are caught, they are delicious!” I
desired him to bring some to table, but we had not resolution enough to
taste them. Little Fury ate them all most greedily, barking and jumping
until she had finished them.
Going for our evening drive, such a smell of roasted locusts issued
forth as we passed the stables! The flight consisted of red locusts, but
amongst them were some of a bright yellow colour. Brown locusts are the
most common; the red as well as the yellow are scarce; the red in dying
become nearly quite brown.
It is recorded that Ibn-Abu-Awfi said, “I fought seven battles along with
the prophet Mahommud, and we used to eat locusts with his highness.”
The khānsāmān prepared many of the bodies with arsenical soap, and
filled them with cotton. An enormous death’s head moth flew in at the
moment, and experienced the same fate. Moths, locusts, great beetles, and
cockroaches are prepared like small birds[112].
They say red locusts predict war, the others famine. The latter
prediction is likely to prove true; the little rain that fell made the
crops spring up, since which time the sun has killed the greater part of
the young plants. All grain is very dear, and the people are exclaiming,
“We shall die, if the rain does not fall.”
Famine, earthquakes, pestilence! What do these portend? Let us not sit in
judgment man on man, or declare “The hand of God is on the earth, until
one-third of the wicked are swept away from the face of it[113].”
All the three Residencies are agog about steam navigation once again. I
think there is a fair chance of success, if the whole of the funds are
voted in support of the Bombay scheme, by which communication might be
established in fifty days; and if the overland dāk from Bombay was put
on a more speedy footing, we might hear from England within two months.
Nearly £15,000 has been already subscribed, and the work of collection
still goes on: the newspapers are flattering the rich baboos, and
dependent and independent Rajahs, and some have given their thousands.
The interference with the Company’s charter, that people in England may
drink their tea cheaper, which result, however, appears doubtful, and
that the surplus population may come out to colonize, and _cholerize_,
has done the Service no benefit. Economy is still the rage, and we of
the present day have nothing to look to but the pension from our Civil
Annuity Fund, after twenty-two years’ actual residence, of £1000, for
which we are to pay one-half, or 50,000 rupees, when we can hoard up as
much. The generality of men’s lives after twenty-two years’ residence,
and twenty-five of service, three years of these being allowed for
furlough, which few are able to take, is scarcely worth five years’
purchase. Numbers, of course, do not live out their time; and if they
have subscribed for twenty-one years and eleven months, the whole goes to
the fund, principal and interest.
_Nov. 3rd._—There are some most wondrous animals called Gungun Medha, or
Bāghsira, the latter Hindoo word meaning tiger-headed, from the shape of
the animal’s horrible head. I was told they could be dug out of the sands
on the river-side. I therefore sent the jamadar and a cooly across the
river this morning, and they brought back eight or nine of these beasts;
their wings curl up in a most singular fashion, and make them appear as
if they had four curly tails, all close together; their great jawbones
are edged like a coarse saw. They are very fierce; they fight, kill each
other, and the conqueror eats up his adversary. Their legs and wings are
most remarkable. We put two under a wire dish-cover, and they fought
fiercely, although, from having been dug up some hours, they were not as
active as at first. They bite terribly; it is necessary to seize them by
their backs like crabs to avoid a bite.
I had some Sarāta lizards dug out of the sands near the Parade ground;
they are not half as curious as these tiger-headed beasts, which are in
thousands in the sandbanks, their holes six or seven feet deep. A Rajpūt
Rana of high degree has pitched his tents in Alopee Bāgh: nineteen
guns were fired in honour of his arrival. This great man has a numerous
retinue: to bathe at the sacred junction of the rivers has brought him
to Prāg. I drove a young lady through his encampment the other evening;
many of his people came out of their tents, and absolutely ran on by the
side of our carriage, staring at us as if we were bāgh-siras (grylli
monstrosi), or animals as wonderful.
Their astonishment was great, occasioned most likely by the sight of
unveiled ladies driving about. Passing through the encampment was a
service of danger; it was difficult, in keeping clear of the teeth of the
camels, not to run against a number of stalls where cakes and sugar were
displayed for sale. No sight do I like better than a native encampment;
the groups of strange-looking men, the Arab horses, the camels,
elephants, and tents are charming. No country can furnish more or so many
picturesque scenes as India.
_Dec. 5th._—People talk of wonderful storms of hail. I have just
witnessed one so very severe, that had I not seen it, I think I should
scarcely have believed it. At ten at night a storm, accompanied by
thunder and lightning, came on; the hail fell as thick as flakes of
snow,—I can scarcely call it hail, the pieces were ice-bolts. I brought
in some which measured four inches and a half in circumference, and the
ground was covered some inches deep; it appeared as if spread with a
white sheet, when by the aid of the lightning one could see through the
darkness around. The old peepul-tree groaned most bitterly, the glass
windows were all broken, the tobacco-plants cut down, the great leaves
from the young banyan-tree were cut off, and the small twigs from the
mango and nīm trees covered the ground like a green carpet. It was a
fearful storm. The next morning for miles round you saw the effect of the
hail, and in the bazār at eight A.M. the children were playing marbles
with the hailstones.
_31st._—I trust we have now become _acclimated_, for we have nearly
passed through this year,—the most fruitful in illness and death I
recollect, both among civilians and soldiers,—without much sickness. I
have had fever and ague. My husband has suffered from acute rheumatism,
and the little pet terrier, Fury, has been delicate, but we are all now
re-established. I am on horseback every morning rejoicing in the cold
breezes, feeling as strong and full of spirit as the long-tailed grey
that carries me; and Fury is chasing squirrels and ferrets, and putting
the farm-yard to the rout.