_Distinguishing features of the races of Nepaul--The Ghorkas--Conquest by
them of Katmandu--Maintenance of the Nepaul army--Bheem Singh's
monument--A feast at the minister's--We bid him adieu--Ascent of the
Sheopoori--Magnificent view of the Himalayas from its summit_.
The grand review over, we availed ourselves of the opportunity to inspect
the regiments composed of men recruited in some of the most distant
provinces of Nepaul. They bore in their countenances little resemblance
either to the Ghorkas or Newars. We examined their faces, and tried to
imagine what sort of a looking country was likely to produce this sort of
a looking man. A regiment of dark-visaged stalwart Ghorkas would march
past, followed by a diminutive race from the north-western frontier,
little, ill-made, and abominably ugly. The same cast of countenance was
prevalent throughout the regiments that had been recruited there; all the
men had the same high cheek-bones, or wide mouths, or whatever their
peculiarity might be. The insignificant Newars looked majestic by the
side of these men, while in their turn their own strong Chinese
characteristics were thrown completely into the shade by some regiment
from the north-east, almost pure Bootyan or Mongolian.
There are not, however, many Newars employed as soldiers, and the army is
chiefly composed of Muggurs, Gurungs, and Krats. These tribes differ
only in their religion, according as it combines in a greater or less
degree the superstitions of the Hindoo worship with those of Bhuddism.
But none of these races differed from one another more completely than
did the Ghorka from them all; he was the only man among them born to be a
soldier, and he looked with contempt upon the mongrel races that
surrounded him.
The country from which he himself originally sprang is nevertheless a
matter of speculation; he certainly is not of trans-Himalayan origin, but
no doubt the comfortable life he leads in Nepaul prevents his caring to
inquire whence he came. The Rajah claims descent from the Rajput
princes. The capital town of the country from which they descended into
the valley of Nepaul is Ghorka, situated about fifty miles westward of
Katmandu. The Ghorkas had already possessed themselves of the whole
territory to the westward for some hundred of miles until their border
touched the kingdom of Runjeit Singh and the vale of Cashmere; they then
turned their conquering arms eastward in 1716, and, overrunning the
valleys of the Newars, their progress was only arrested on the Sikkim
frontier.
The conquest of the valley of Katmandu was attended with circumstances of
the greatest barbarity; thousands of the inhabitants were starved to
death by the Ghorka King, Prithi Naraim. There were then in Nepaul a few
Christians, converted by a Jesuit mission. These were all compelled to
fly the country, some taking refuge in Thibet, others crossing our
frontier and settling at Bettiah, where a Christian community at present
exists. Not long after he had conquered Nepaul, the Ghorka monarch
organized an expedition into Tartary, which was so signally successful
that the H'Lassa Government was obliged to treat on humiliating
conditions. This advantage was followed, in defiance of the treaty, by
another invasion, which was only arrested by the forces of the Emperor,
who, having heard of the violent proceedings in this distant part of his
dominions, sent an army of 70,000 men to oppose the Ghorka invaders, who
were completely overwhelmed and obliged to retreat. The Chinese followed
the retiring force across their own frontier, and not until they had
reached the valley of Noyakot, eighteen miles from Katmandu, did they
consent to treat for peace, which was now humbly sued for by the Ghorka
King.
Not satisfied with serving as soldiers in their own country, the Ghorkas
have offered their services to the Indian Government, and two of its
finest regiments are composed of soldiers of this race.
No European, as far as I could learn, has ever yet penetrated to their
city, which however can contain no object of very great attraction, since
it must want those Chinese peculiarities which render Katmandu and Patn
so interesting, and must more nearly resemble the large cities of the
plains. It has a large population, is well built and fortified, and is
situated on a commanding eminence.
The Nepaul army is maintained partly by the state, the men being in some
instances paid out of the treasury, but more frequently by an assignment
of land to each man called a jaghire. They are thus remunerated at the
expense of the Newars, who are the cultivators of the soil and were the
original proprietors. Hence Nepaul is a warlike state, not merely from
the natural disposition of its Ghorka conquerors, but from the
inducements held out to them to become soldiers.
What would our grumbling agricultural population say to having soldiers
billeted in each village, and living on the fat of the land? The Newars
say, "Take away the army and give us free trade;" the farmers in England
say, "Keep up the army and take away free trade."
The minister told us of out-stations at which different regiments were
posted, and wanted us to believe that the standing army of Nepaul
exceeded 25,000 men. Every male is obliged to serve in the army for a
year, and it requires great interest to be allowed to remain above that
period, so eagerly is the profession of arms sought after.
Immediately facing the parade-ground stands the famous monument built by
Bheem Singh, one of the most eminent prime ministers that Nepaul has ever
seen, and who has left behind him proofs of his greatness in the many
works, both useful and ornamental, which he erected.
Two winged lions guard the chief bridge over the Bhagmutty, by which
Katmandu is approached, and pronounce Bheem Singh its builder. Numerous
temples and handsome palaces are adorned in like manner, but the monument
above mentioned is the most remarkable memorial of his greatness, and is
the chief ornament of the city. The people are deservedly proud of this
its distinguishing mark, for, except as minarets, single columns are
unknown in India, and in this respect their mountain capital can boldly
challenge a comparison with the proudest city of the plains. The
monument resembles in shape a portable telescope fully drawn out, and
rears its head to a height of nearly 200 feet above the surrounding
houses. The Minister Sahib contended that it was higher than the
monument of London. This, as in duty bound, I patriotically denied; but
which of us was led into error by partiality for our respective countries
I am not prepared to say. The Mahila Sahib accompanied us to the summit,
whence we had a most magnificent view. Looking down into the city
beneath us, we could discern the turning of every narrow street, the
palaces situated in the midst of gardens, the hovels in the midst of
dunghills, though I am bound to say that the former preponderated in
number, and the houses of the city were for the most part substantial and
well built. Some of these streets were now crowded with a motley
multitude, returning home from the review, the bright uniforms mixing
amongst them as the soldiers joined their families after being dismissed
parade, or here and there marched in companies back to the barracks.
Officers were scampering down streets on ponies, dragging along the horse
boys, who were holding on by their tails. All this the Mahila Sahib
pointed out with much affability. Had he been the man to seize a good
opportunity, that was the moment to give Jung a push over the low
parapet; but the Mahila Sahib is a man without decision of character; so
we all descended, and he allowed the minister to reach the bottom his own
way. We then proceeded with Jung to his residence, there to partake of a
farewell feast. The carriage in which we were driving was one I had seen
brought over the mountain passes on men's shoulders in detached portions;
and this emanation from Long-Acre was to be trundled for the rest of its
existence along the three or four miles of carriage-road which the valley
of Nepaul can boast. Our way lay through narrow lanes, walled in by the
enclosures of different rich men's suburban residences, and the prolific
orange-trees drooped their luscious fruit over the garden walls for the
benefit of any one who chose to pick them, as they hung temptingly
overhead. Jung showed us his horticultural arrangements with no little
pride. His house is situated in the midst of gardens, adorned with
fountains and reservoirs, and he informed us that upon one aqueduct alone
he had expended 30,000 pounds. The garden was in its infancy, and,
notwithstanding the great formality with which it was laid out, bid fair
to do credit to Jung's taste and industry. In one direction the gardens
extend to the river side, where he has built some handsome baths, not far
distant from which, and at one corner of his grounds, stands a
four-turreted building, inhabited by the Ranee of Lahore, who has taken
refuge from the English under the hospitable roof of Jung Bahadoor. Here
this extraordinary woman leads a secluded life, rarely venturing outside
her doors, and never giving any one a chance of judging for themselves of
her rumoured beauty. She is, no doubt, meditating some bold design
worthy of the heroism she has proved herself to possess, for she is said
still to retain hope where hope is surely forlorn.
We had not on this occasion walked a whole day over Nepaul roads, as was
the case when last we dined with Jung; consequently, when his feast was
set before us, we did not do justice to it. Perhaps our appetites were
spoiled by the parting which was about to take place, for we were not to
see his Excellency any more, and to part from the prime minister of
Nepaul is not like parting from any other man. Even were he only a
casual acquaintance, it would cause a different feeling from that of
bidding adieu to one who was to lead a peaceable life, and in all
probability die in his bed; but when the chances are strongly against
either of these suppositions, and when the friend whom you are leaving is
a man of so interesting a character, the possessor of such great talents
and of so many amiable qualities, one with whom you have journeyed and
hunted and undergone all sorts of adventures and witnessed all sorts of
scenes, and who has on all occasions proved himself a kind friend, an
hospitable host, and an agreeable companion, it is anything but pleasant
to look upon him for the last time. Doubtless, in the early years of his
yet uncivilized life, Jung Bahadoor was guilty of great barbarities and
crimes, but it was war to the knife, and self-defence no less than
ambition prompted the acts of that bloody drama. Now he has proved
himself a changed man, and his late generous and humane conduct might
well read a useful lesson to many in the civilized societies in which he
learnt to be what he now is, since he does not fear to change a line of
conduct when its error is palpable.
The time at length arrived when we were compelled to bid adieu to this
extraordinary man, whose future career is a matter of such vast
importance to the country he rules with almost absolute power. Expressing
the hope that the day might yet come when I should meet him in my own
country, I took leave of my kind-hearted but perilously-situated
entertainer as I would of a friend in a galloping consumption.
During my whole stay in Nepaul the weather had been unusually foggy, and
the snowy range only displayed its wonders now and then. On the day
following the review the sky was unclouded; I therefore resolved to
ascend the Sheopoori, a mountain which rises to a height of 2000 feet
above the valley, and from which it was said a most magnificent view of
the snowy range is obtained. The ascent commenced at a distance of five
miles from the Residency, and was very fatiguing from the total absence
of any path, the steepness of some part of it, and the thick jungle
through which we had to push our way. It occupied two hours' stiff
climbing for one in pretty good mountain condition, but no fatigue seems
too great if it is rewarded by a good view; and there is no prospect so
cheering to the mountain traveller as that of an unclouded sky, with the
summit of the hill he is ascending in clear relief against it.
At last we reached the shoulder, from whence I had a peep that made me
long for more, but, determined not to spoil the effect, I pushed
resolutely on after my guide through a low scrubby jungle, along a barely
perceptible woodcutter's path, until the crisp snow crunching beneath our
feet betokened our great elevation. I was glad to halt for a moment and
cool my mouth with the snow, a luxury I had not experienced for years.
A few yards more and we gained the summit; a sort of shed, the residence
of some departed holy man, marked the highest point, upwards of 6000 feet
above the sea.
A keen sharp wind whistled about the ruin as I jumped on to a half broken-
down wall in order to look over the low bushes which surrounded me. From
this position a panorama, in every respect as magnificent as it was
wonderful, stretched itself, if I may so speak, as well above as below
me. Northward, and not thirty miles distant, the Himalayas reared their
heaven-piercing summits, peak succeeding peak, and crag succeeding crag,
far as the eye could reach, from east to west a glittering chain, while
here and there the light clouds which hung upon its rocks and precipices
became thinned, till they vanished altogether, or, rising in denser
masses from some dark valley, obscured the lower portions of the range,
only to give relief to the summits and elevate them in appearance--an aid
they little needed, for the height of the lowest level of the chain is
upwards of 15,000 feet. But it was not the actual height of the various
peaks, nor the masses of glistening snow which clothed them, brightly
reflecting the rays of an almost vertical sun, and tinted by the most
brilliant hues, that was the chief cause of wonder and admiration. It
was the sharpness of the horizon-line against the serene clear sky which
displayed precipices and crags of inconceivable grandeur, the overhanging
peak looking down some thousands of feet upon the lower part of the
range. Had it been possible to calculate upon such a stupendous scale, I
felt I was gazing at sheer precipices 6000 or 8000 feet in depth, for the
descent from 25,000 to 15,000 feet was not gradual, but the whole line
was cragged and notched upon a scale of unsurpassable magnificence and
grandeur.
The Dawalogiri, the highest mountain in the world, and 28,700 feet above
the level of the sea, was as worthy a termination of the chain at one end
as its rival, the Kinchin Jung, was at the other; while not ten leagues
distant, and completely towering above me, the Gosain Than reared its
gigantic head, the third highest in this mighty barrier.
Turning from this marvellous scene, I looked down upon the placid valley
of Nepaul. Its four rivers appeared like silver threads, winding their
way amidst rich cultivation to swell the waters of the parent Bhagmutty.
Blooming and verdant, the populous plain lay embosomed in lofty
mountains, shut out as it were from the cares of the world. It seemed a
Paradise on earth, with an approach to heaven of its own along the summit
of the Gosain Than.
I viewed with interest a country on which European foot had never trod,
and my eye ranged over bleak hills enclosing fertile valleys, into which
torrents first flung themselves wildly, then, flowing sedately through to
the other end, dashed away again behind rocks and hills and jumbled
masses of broken country, which must have afforded magnificent scenery as
it gradually swelled into the towering mountains of the Emodus.
A distant hill was pointed out to me as that on which the city of Ghorka
was perched, a fitting residence for the wild race to whom it gives
birth. My guide also showed me the road to the mysterious capital of
H'Lassa, winding through rocky glens, passable only for the droves of
sheep that traverse those mountain defiles, a journey of twenty days in
the Nepaul dominions; but how far from the frontier lay the city of the
Grand Lama the guide did not know.
The valley of Noyakot is about eighteen miles distant from Katmandu, and
was visited some years ago by Prince Waldemar of Prussia and his party.
It does not offer much attraction to the traveller, and as I looked into
it from the top of Sheopoori I thought it hardly worth the trip. Not so
extensive as that in which Katmandu is situated, it lies lower and is
very fertile. Its climate is much warmer and not so healthy. Looking up
the valley of Nepaul, I could distinguish at its farther end, twelve
miles distant from the present capital, the ancient Newar city of
Bhatgong, the second in importance in the days when Patn was the first.
It has now fallen into much the same dismantled state as its old rival,
while it looked much more picturesque, standing as it does on a
commanding eminence, terraced with rich rice-fields. The Durbar is a
fine old building, characteristic of the architecture of the country, and
the town contains many ancient Newar buildings of much interest.
But the valley of Nepaul, and the wild mountains of Ghorka, and the
dashing rivers and the rocky glens, all sank into insignificance when I
returned once more irresistibly fascinated by the wonders which the snowy
chain seemed to exhibit anew every moment, as clouds cleared away from
off the frightful precipices, or laid bare huge craggy peaks: For an hour
did I gaze upon this incomparable scene, as upon one which the experience
of a lifetime can seldom boast, for, though I was prepared by an alpine
experience in Europe, and had stretched my imagination to the utmost in
my anticipations of what would be the appearance of the highest mountains
in the world, I could never have conceived--far less is it possible for
me to describe--the scene I beheld from the summit of Sheopoori.